One For The Ages
by me11
Summary: COMPLETE. The adventures of the Pod Squad after Season 3. It's primarily Cliffie, and Rebel, but it is LizMariaKyle friendly. Will probably be 10 Chapters in total.
1. Chapter 1

One For The Ages

A/N: Well hello gentle readers. I've been on a real Roswell kick lately, watching back through all of the old eps, and I forgot what a Michael/Isabel fan that I was. Honestly I'm a Cliffie and a Rebel, so Tess/Ava haters might want to stop now (I don't make Liz look bad or anything, I just don't adore her the way others seem to). Mostly I wanted a continuation of the show with a MiI theme to it…so here we go. To be fair, it's very Maria friendly, and Kyle isn't just a lusting puppy dog: basically I tried not to destroy any of the characters! I'm not sure how long it'll be, but I'm thinking about 5 chapters…and don't worry, my chapters are long! So here we go…

Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with Roswell, it's creators, cast, or crew and obtain no profit from writing this besides a warm fuzzy feeling.

Rating: PG for now (perhaps PG-13 later)…rating will be adjusted if necessary.

Pairings: Michael/Isabel, Max/Liz, Max/Ava, Rath/Vilandra, Kyle/Maria (possible), Zan/Ava

Chapter One: Flight

When you drove long enough down the interstate a strange phenomenon seemed to always happen, where the broken yellow lines would blur into a long, never ended, streak of yellow. It could be hypnotizing, and tended to make you drowsy…

Which was exactly what had happened two hours previously, and was why Michael Guerin found himself stuck behind the wheel of the old van, driving in the middle of the night when it was not supposed to be his turn. He didn't complain though; Kyle had felt so awful almost falling asleep that Michael had switched places with him with little more than the customary glare that he so regularly doled out. Behind him he could hear the rhythmic breathing of the others, long since fallen asleep. He smirked slightly, as he always did when noting that Kyle and Maria both snored.

A part of him liked the silence (especially as Maria was rarely silent) but still…it made for a long night. As if hearing his silent wish, Michael could feel someone watching him, all of a sudden. There was that familiar, prickling sensation on the back of his neck, like a heat lamp.

"Is?" he asked quietly into the darkness. Wordlessly she picked her way over the seat divisions and climbed into the passenger seat beside him.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked him, breaking off into a yawn. His natural response was that he always knew when it was her, but he didn't tell her that, and just shrugged instead. She knew anyways. "You doing okay? Need me to drive for a while?" she asked him, relaxing into her seat and turning her face towards him with a sweet smile.

Michael shook his head and gave her a small smile in thanks. "I'm okay," he assured her. "Wouldn't mind the company though." She smiled at him again and turned around, pulling the flimsy curtain divider across the expanse of the van, effectively separating the sleepers from them. Then she waved her hand slowly over the curtain, turning it into a thicker partition that would at least muffle the sound of their voices, and not wake the others.

"So how many days has it been?" she asked him nonchalantly, though they both knew that she knew exactly how many days.

"Four hundred and seven," he told her with a sigh, as he did everyday. She nodded thoughtfully.

"That's a lot of days," she murmured, more to herself than to him, as she did everyday.

"More than a year," he remarked, shifting his shoulders uncomfortably. "I'm about ready to stop Is."

She looked up at that with concern. "Oh, well pull over then," she stretched her arms out. "We can switch."

"That's not what I meant," he shook his head, not slowing the van down at all. She didn't know what to say to that, and just looked at him thoughtfully. He didn't mind though; her steady gaze was always calming, and it just felt like second nature for him.

"I know what you mean," she finally said, turning her gaze back to the road. "And I feel the same way," she admitted to him.

"Really?" that surprised him more than it should. Isabel had left her husband and her family to ride along in a bus with a married couple and Michael and Maria (and their strange, on and off relationship)…and Kyle. She gave up more than any of them, and it was really just a matter of time before she wanted to go home again.

"I just can't help but wonder what would have been different if…"

"If we hadn't left?" he tried to finish for her. "We would have all been killed."

"No," she shook her head. "If we had gone to Antar with Tess…if I had let you talk me out of marrying Jesse…if we had fought back instead of running away." Michael didn't know what to say to that, because he asked himself those same questions everyday as well. "Maybe it doesn't matter now…I just know that I'm getting sick of driving everyday Michael, with no destination in mind. I have to stop soon."

He tore his eyes off of the road and caught her gaze with his own. "Isabel, I know that you've given up a lot to come with us—"

"We all gave up a lot Michael," she shook her head. "I'm not special there."

"You're always special Is," he teased her for a second.

"It's just hard to know that this is going to be our life indefinitely," she waved a hand vaguely towards the back of the van. "Traveling in a van until…what? We can't outrun them anymore? Never meeting new people? Liz and Max getting to build a life in the constant company of the four of us? And me and Kyle never being able to meet anyone else because we can't stay in one place for more than one weekend? It's just…it's a long way from these grand destinies that we were supposed to have. It's a long way from these normal lives that they were supposed to have."

Michael didn't reply to that, knew he didn't need to. He had thought that same thing too, several times. It was hard to believe that only three years ago he stood in the chamber beside Isabel and heard of their destiny, to rule a distant planet, to save a race…and now their world was so small. What a difference a couple of years can make.

"We'll stop eventually Is," he promised her, a large part of him unsure even as he said it. "We have to. This can't go on forever. Max and Liz will want to start a family, Kyle and Maria will want to start their lives, or go to school. And we'll…"

"We'll what?" she asked him, her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. He looked over to her again, catching her gaze. Even with the tears and the slightly sleep-tousled hair she was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen. She had her knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around them tightly, and was staring back at him hopefully, desperate for him to say something to reassure her, to let her know that they would be okay.

He didn't really have an answer for her, he realized with a sinking feeling of dread. "What do you want?" he finally asked her instead. "Once it's safe," he said the word with obvious distaste, hating the term because he knew of its difficulty. "Do you want to go back to Roswell? To Boston?" He didn't want to ask the question on the back of his mind, but he wondered if she would flee to Boston, to find Jesse and try to pick her life back up where she left it.

Isabel smiled sadly and he saw her finger the place on her left hand where her wedding ring used to sit. "I don't think that my future is with Jesse," she told him honestly, her voice lilting a bit as she said his name, as if saying it aloud made if real. "Not anymore. I told him when we left that in my next life maybe we could be together…but I knew that it wasn't true, even then."

"Why not?"

"Despite the fact that Max and Liz are together now, we just don't seem to be able to escape these destinies that were decided for us," she told him with a small sigh. "Despite our best attempts to find happiness with the people in our lives, it keeps ending up the three of us, and Tess's ghost. You tried to stay behind and start a life for just you, and we all ended up together here with the same problems. Max tried to start his life again when Tess died and Zan was gone…and the whole alien thing came back again. I tried to start a new life with Jesse, but I've spent the last four hundred and seven days in a van with you and Max! Maybe it's just time to admit that our destiny is going to get in the way of anything else that we want in our lives. That in my next life I'm not going to have any more luck being with Jesse than I do in this life; that I'm still going to be with you and Max, running from normal."

Michael felt himself agreeing with her words, though he didn't want to. He had no reassuring words for her, no empty condolences that he could bring himself to say to comfort her. He knew that she didn't expect them from him, knowing him as well as she did, but he also knew that she needed something. He couldn't hug her without putting the van and it's passengers in serious jeopardy, so he did the next best thing: he reached his hand over to where hers were resting and entwined their fingers.

Michael could feel Isabel smile and squeeze his fingers in return. They sat in a comfortable silence for a few more minutes until, seemingly reading his mind, she reached forward and began the search for a decent radio station.

* * *

Maria had found a pattern in her splashing. She was sitting on the edge of a pool, the concrete lining digging into her heels as she kicked her legs, making a "swish" than a "thump" noise. Over, and over, and over… She had been feeling more and more claustrophobic lately, stuck in that van. Seeing Liz and Max so happy was only serving to point out the obvious cracks in her own relationship with Michael…if it could even be called that. Their relationship had technically ended well before they embarked on what she was calling Vanapalooza: now they we just teetering on the edge between friends and falling back into that complicated mess.

Maria DeLuca had no doubt in her mind that she loved Michael, but she was beginning to think that the days of being so in love with him that she could blindly accept him mood swings and secrecy were behind her. Michael was a good person, but maybe he just wasn't her person anymore. She saw the way that Max looked at Liz, and couldn't remember seeing that same look from Michael in a very long time…if ever. Heck, she couldn't even remember Michael looking at her the way he looks at Isabel! That look of absolute adoration and acceptance of every one of her quirks, habits, and moods.

She shook her head bitterly at that. Isabel Evans…or Isabel Ramirez…Maria supposed it wasn't really fair to begrudge Isabel for the fact that all of the men in her life seemed to adore her. After all, Isabel was in Michael's life far before Maria was…and just because Kyle was obviously so head over heels with her, well that didn't make it her fault. The blonde-turned-brunette had not lead him on in anyway, and no one could call fault to the proper amount of remorse that she had displayed over Alex and Jesse. Maria actually felt bad for her, almost as bad as she felt for herself: the girl had been a princess, and now she was forced to ride along in a van with her brother (who got to be happy) and leave her husband behind. Not that Maria really ever believed that Isabel loved Jesse the way she'd seemed to think that she did…

"You okay?" a familiar voice asked her, even as he sat down beside her, quickly ridding himself of socks and shoes and mimicking her swish and thump actions. She was a little morose, but all in all she was okay. She was, after all, the only one that didn't have any alien spookiness to her: once this was all over, she was the one the most likely to be able to have a normal life.

"I'm okay," she confirmed with a nod, and then elbowed him in the ribs for good measure. He pretended that it hurt…and then reached out and grabbed her waist, tickling her until she couldn't breathe through the laughing.

"Yeah, now you're sorry!" he laughed too but released her and slung an arm over her shoulder instead. Maria smiled at the comfortable weight and allowed him to pull her towards him slightly, laying her head back onto his shoulder. They took turns trying to splash each other. They continued on that way, for how long Maria knew not, until the sky turned red with the setting sun.

"Hey," Michael's voice from behind them cut through the laughter. Maria and Kyle turned to look back at him. "Meeting in Max and Liz's room." He walked away without another word on the subject and Maria and Kyle sighed.

"What? Oh sure," Kyle joked, already climbing to his feet and then holding his hands out to Maria to help her out. "We'd love to join in. What's that? Take you time, you say? We couldn't dream of starting without you? That's so sweet…"

Maria laughed and took the offered hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet. They pulled their socks and shoes on and walked off in the direction that Michael had headed. For the first time Maria realized that the temperature had dropped considerably in the time that she'd spent by the pool. She rubbed her bare arms to generate a little warmth.

"What do you think this one's about?" Kyle asked her, slipping out of his long sleeve button down and handing it to her. He didn't seem to be cold in his t-shirt so she took it with a thankful smile.

"I have no idea," she admitted, slipping the shirt on. The sleeves were nice and warm and though the cuffs reached almost to her fingertips and the shirt itself was halfway to her knees, she was glad to be wearing it. It smelled good…

"I hope Liz hasn't developed anymore powers," he groaned. They all knew that Kyle hadn't yet started to exhibit any powers, but that he lived in constant fear that he would one day wake up with antennae or something.

"I doubt it," she reassured him with a pat on the arm. He smirked and they finally reached room 245, where Liz and Max were staying that night. They tried to do at least one night in a hotel room a week, just to get out of the van for a while and get some individual space. Money wasn't really an issue, what with the Pod Squad's handy ability to turn 1s into 100s, but they didn't like to be tracked anymore than was absolutely necessary.

Tonight they were staying at the Lazy Corral, a two-story motel in southwestern Texas. It was on the interstate in the middle of nowhere. At least they had a pool though.

The others were already in the room when they arrived. Max and Liz sat side-by-side on the bed while Isabel sat at one of the chairs at a small table, and Michael leaned on the windowsill behind her. "What's up?" Maria asked them, taking the second seat at the table. Kyle hopped up onto the small counter and stared at their fearless leader, with a "lay it on me" expression on his face.

"We thought we should have a talk and decide what our next move should be," Max began, his voice taking on that automatic "I'm in charge" quality that it did whenever he addressed the group. Maria supposed it was because he was programmed to be a King, no matter what he remembered.

"I'm guessing that it's going to be more of the same," Kyle raised his hand mockingly. "Aren't we just going to keep driving…so they can't track us down?"

"Well, there have been some requests," Max didn't name any names, but from the way his eyes flitted briefly in Michael and Isabel's direction, Maria had a good idea who he was talking about. "To try to settle down for a little while in one place…and I have to admit that it is appealing."

The surprised look on Kyle's face mirrored the shock that Maria was feeling. "Really?" Kyle asked eagerly, and Maria and Isabel smiled warmly at his genuine excitement. "Do we think it's safe?"

Max hesitated. "We don't think anyone's been on our tails for the past few months," Liz reminded them all. "I think that if we get out of the South West we might be able to stay in one place…at least for a few weeks. I know we're all getting tired of that van!"

There was a general murmur of consensus around the room at that. "I don't want to rain on this parade," Maria raised her hand, mimicking Kyle. "Because god knows I love a good parade, but are we sure that this can work? Aren't we just putting ourselves in more danger by standing still? The FBI has pretty long arms…"

"What if we leave the country?" Kyle suggested. "The FBI can only go so far, if they have no jurisdiction."

"But what if we can't get back in again?" Isabel pointed out. "The ship is in Roswell…what if we need to get back to it?"

"We can forge documents," Michael reminded her. They all considered that.

"Does anyone speak Spanish?" Kyle asked them.

"Not enough," Maria sighed.

"Canada?" Liz asked instead. "Or maybe we can go to Europe?" Maria and Isabel both perked up at that and immediately began to weigh the options in Europe.

"We can't go to Europe," Max told them with a sorry smile. "It's too far…like Isabel said, if we need the ship…"

"So do go to the middle of nowhere?" Kyle asked then, a look of dread on his face.

"I was thinking somewhere bigger," Max told them. "We need to go somewhere where the six of us can stick together and not stand out. We need to completely disappear from the radar."

"New York," Michael said, a tone of finality in his words. Maria wondered if he'd been considering it for some time.

"New York," Isabel repeated softly, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. Maria liked that too.

"What do we think?" Max asked the room.

"The Dupes are in New York," Isabel pointed out. "Lonnie, Rath and Ava are out there somewhere…"

No one said anything for a few moments. Finally, "We don't know that they're still there," Liz pointed out. "It's possible that Lonnie and Rath killed each other off, and Ava isn't a threat…"

"They won't want exposure any more than we do," Kyle told Isabel. "Right?" They all nodded at that.

"So, let's vote I guess," Max sighed. "All in favour of going to New York?" Six hands raised into the air. "Okay, New York it is."

"Centre of the universe," Michael muttered, and Maria was reminded of those same words being proclaimed proudly by Rath…was that already over two years ago?

"Depending on how things go there, we might be able to start splitting up," Max told them all gravely.

"What do you mean splitting up?" Isabel asked, her voice panicky. "We can't split up Max! You, me and Michael are strongest when we're together!" Michael put a hand on her shoulder to calm her but he looked as worried as she did.

"I didn't mean…" Max turned to look at Maria and Kyle. "It's something that I've been thinking about for a while now. Kyle hasn't started to develop any powers yet, and it's possible that he won't. And Maria doesn't have to worry about that at all. If we can disappear in New York for a few months with no problems…you two might be able to get out. If you want."

Maria could feel her mouth open in shock. She could get out…or did they want her out? She looked at Kyle and saw the same shock on his face. They could never go home again, but maybe they could have real lives. She couldn't bring herself to look at Michael, so she locked eyes with Liz and saw the fear there.

"But Max, we don't know that they'll be okay," Liz shook her head, panicking. "It's not like they can just go home and pick up their lives again, as if nothing happened!"

"But they should be able to start new lives for themselves, if they want to," Isabel said quietly, locking eyes with Kyle. "At least some of us should be able to have normal lives." No one else seemed to have much else to say. Maria felt as if all of the wind had been knocked out of her.

"Well, it's something to think about," Max said unnecessarily, trying to break the tension. "We'll leave for New York in the morning."

They all took that as their cue to leave, and climbed to their feet. Maria tried to catch Michael's gaze and he left, but he swept past her without looking, and followed Isabel down the hall towards his room. Maria sighed and went to her own room, the door slamming behind her.

* * *

"I guess I always just thought that when we finally stopped it would be all of us," Kyle sighed and reached back to punch the stuffing of the pillow he was lying on into a more comfortable shape. "I didn't think it would just be me and Maria that got to go."

"It's only if you want to," Isabel assured him. They were currently lying side by side on the bed in his motel room, counting the spots on the stucco of his ceiling. "Besides, we don't even know if your powers will develop or not."

"There's some appeal in going though," he told her honestly, turning to look at her. He pretended that he didn't see the hurt frown on her face. "Because the alternative is running with the rest of you, until…what? You find a way back to Antar? You guys have these big destinies, these grand lives waiting for you, but the rest of us…I could get a job I guess."

She laughed at that, as he knew that she would. "You could meet some nice girl and have a family," she sighed dreamily, and he knew that her thoughts were filled with the possibilities for him. He loved her so much sometimes…most times, but especially at these times.

"Or I could meet a really nasty girl and have some fun!" he joked with a leer, making her laugh harder. The real life, that had sounded so depressing when he first climbed into that van, was incredibly appealing now.

"And Maria could do something amazing," she continued on, this time a little enviously. "Obviously she wouldn't be able to be famous, which is too bad for her…but she could go to Europe though, or backpack across Asia. Any of the things that make her so unique…she could do that for the rest of her life, and be happy doing it." Kyle smiled at the thought of Maria, in a salsa band in Spain or an artist's haven in Paris. She would fit right in there.

"Yeah," he smiled. 'We both could,' he thought silently.

Lying there though, looking at Isabel, he knew that it would be really hard to leave her. And the odds of Maria being able to leave Michael were even lower. That was the ultimate sticking point right there: would they want to leave the other four to continue on without them? Would going on their own life adventures be enough of a draw to justify being cut-off from the aliens?

"Yeah," Isabel repeated softly, her smile fading slowly to be replaced by a thoughtful look. They lay in silence for a while until Kyle began to get antsy. Isabel took that as her cue to leave. "Are you going to go out tonight?" she asked him, referring to the slightly rough and tumble bar about a half a mile down the interstate from their motel.

Kyle nodded. "Probably," he admitted. "I need something to do to kill the boredom." The honest truth was that he just needed some female companionship; and if it couldn't be from Isabel it better well be from some nameless girl that he wouldn't need to see again. "You want to come?" he asked her hopefully. Maybe it didn't need to be a nameless girl…

She shook her head and gave him a wry grin. "I'm just going to watch TV I think," she admitted. "Try to behave yourself Valenti."

"Hey, don't I always?" he cried, mock-defensively. "It's not my fault the ladies love me! You're just jealous that you're not as pretty as I am!"

She laughed good-naturedly at that one and ruffled his hair. "Yep, that must be it! Have fun."

"Okay," he nodded and walked her to the door. "See you tomorrow."

"Bye," she smiled. They opened the door to reveal Maria with her hand up, about to knock on the door. At their raised eyebrows Maria dropped her hand and sighed dramatically.

"Space Boy and I had a fight…I need a drink!" she whined comically. Isabel and Kyle both smiled in amusement.

"Looks like you have some company after all," Isabel patted his arm, gave them a little wave and took off in the direction of her room. "Don't corrupt her, Kyle!"

"No, it's okay," Maria sighed again, pushing past him and collapsing onto his bed in a dramatic heap. "Corrupt me!"

Kyle laughed.

* * *

Isabel had just changed into her most comfortable pair of pyjamas (a two-piece, fuzzy blue, button down pair with coffee cups on them) when the knock came at the door. "Come in Michael," she called out, pulling her hair up into a ponytail.

The door clicked open and he stepped into the room, two bottles of Snapple in his hands. "How did you know it was me?" he asked her with a frown, handing her a peach Snapple.

"I ran into Maria an hour ago," she told him with a smirk. "And she said that you got into a fight. I knew that you'd storm around in a bad mood for about an hour, blast apart some poor defenceless rocks, and then show up here." He snorted at that but then shrugged in defeat, knowing how predictable his behaviour was in those situations.

"What are you watching?" he asked her instead, letting himself sprawl out unceremoniously onto her bed.

"Back to the Future," she told him with a grin. She loved that movie. Michael nodded appreciatively.

"I like part 2 the best," he told her, rubbing his arm dramatically when she nudged him to move over and make room for her.

"Yeah, because they go forward and backwards," she agreed absently, popping open her Snapple and taking a tentative sip. "Yum!" Out of the corner of her eye she could see him staring at her with a pondering smile.

"What?" she finally asked, after a minute of him staring.

"Nothing," he shook his head and opened his own Snapple. It was lemon iced tea.

"You don't like that kind," she pointed out before he could take a sip.

"It's okay," he lied, taking a sip. "They only had one peach left." She smiled at that – peach was her favourite too.

"Thank-you, Michael," she sing-songed.

"You're welcome, Isabel," he mimicked with a smirk, his eyes glued on the TV. "Now shush, would ya? They're about to go back…"

Isabel shushed but scooted a bit closer to him and then settled in to watch the movie. He rolled his eyes but leaned back and slung an arm around her shoulders and they both watched the movie.

At the commercial break half way through the movie she pushed herself up off of him and stretched, hearing the satisfying pop as her vertebrae re-aligned. She could feel him watching her again and it unnerved her a little. "So," she started nonchalantly and pulled her hair out of its ponytail, letting it fall down around her shoulder. She used her fingers to comb through it. "What did you and Maria fight about this time?"

He didn't answer her and she took that to be his nice way of saying mind your own business. She rolled her eyes. "Fine," she sighed, still combing her hair. "I talked to Kyle tonight, about what Max said."

"Yeah?" Michael asked, and from the tone of his voice she knew that the same conversation had sparked the fight between him and Maria.

"I think he might go," she added softly, feeling both excited for her friend and deeply saddened at the same time. Michael looked over in surprise at that.

"You do?"

She nodded. "If his powers don't show up, I think he'll be convinced to go," she said.

"Convinced?"

Isabel squared her shoulders. "He'll need to be convinced," she said certainly. "But it'll be best for him. I don't want him to, but…" Michael sat up beside her now and leaned a little towards her, the way he usually did when he was really listening to her. She turned to him. "I think it's too late for Liz, Michael, but for Kyle and Maria…

Just like Jesse, they don't have to be tied to this forever! If Kyle doesn't develop any powers, all he'll need is a new identity. Maria too. As much as we love them, the right thing to do is to let them go on, and have a normal life."

He averted his eyes to where his hands toyed at the bedspread. She turned her body to face his completely and followed his gaze, speaking towards his hands but knowing that he was still listening intently. "Kyle is so sweet…he deserves to find someone to love him, and have a life, and a family," she whispered, tears coming to her eyes as she did. Michael still didn't look up but his free hand reached out and rubbed her back soothingly. "And Maria…she's like this bundle of unexpressed energy, always wanting to bubble over. She needs to go into the world and do something amazing, or else she's just going to waste away. I can already see it… Michael," he looked into her eyes now. "I can't have any part in keeping them here just because it's easier for us."

He nodded slightly, to show that he heard her, but he couldn't bring himself to speak. Isabel stilled his hand on the bedspread with her own, and stared resolutely at the broad expanse of his shoulders, not able to meet his gaze. "I know that we didn't force them to come," she continued shakily. "But if they show any sign of considering leaving, then I have to let you know that I'm going to encourage them. I love them, but this time it has to be about what's going to be best for them, no matter how much it hurts us. If it's safe for them to go, I'm going to support them."

"I know," he finally answered her, the very sound of his voice drawing her gaze up to match his steadily. "Me too. That's what we fought about."

Isabel nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks, and moved silently into Michael's welcome embrace. They clung to each other silently, united in their grief for loosing those that they cared about, some that they had loved, and didn't notice that the movie had started again.

* * *

"To New York City!" Maria cried over the loud music, lifting a shot glass of tequila up in the air triumphantly. Kyle raised his own glass and grinned.

"To New York City!" they both licked their hands, downed the clear liquid, and reached for a slice of lime to quell the taste. "Woah!" he grinned again…or maybe he had been grinning constantly for the last hour and a half…he couldn't remember anymore.

"Thank god that _we_ can drink," she giggled, tossing her lime rind aside. "Maybe you're not Czechoslovakian after all!"

"Here's hoping!" Kyle answered, taking another shot. Maria laughed hysterically while he coughed and sputtered, and patted his back. Once he got himself under control he laughed too.

Around them people were drinking copiously, dancing shamelessly, and playing pool. They'd clearly discovered a real dive. "Wanna dance?" he asked her with a shrug, too drunk to care where they were.

"Okay," she nodded and they stumbled off of their stools. She slipped her hand through his arm and they stumbled their way to the dance floor. The music changed to a salasa-esque tune and they both grinned. Kyle loved to dance, with girls anyways…and experience had taught him that girls liked a guy who would dance with them. It worked out nicely.

He spun Maria out away from him and then pulled her in close, blinking his eyes to steady the swaying room as she shimmied. They both laughed again and his hands felt clumsy against her back. "So we have to pick out a girl for you," she said in his ear as they continued to dance.

"Hmm?" he asked, following her gaze to the various women standing around the room without male companions. He'd almost forgot why he'd come here tonight; he'd been having so much fun. "Oh, right! The ladies…"

Together they looked around until Maria nudged him and nodded towards a red head at the bar. Kyle looked over and felt his eyes widen at the sight of her: an incredibly short leather skirt, a barely there top, and long, cascading red curls. She was hot…perhaps too hot for him to handle in his current state.

"I'm a little drunk," he admitted. "I think we should aim lower." They both laughed at that. Instead of scanning for more girls though Maria just caught his eye again and went back to dancing. Kyle found that he was okay with that.

* * *

Isabel felt her body begin to pull her from the warm, cosiness of sleep, the way that it tended to do when waking up from a nap. She could feel a soft bed beneath her, and the warm steadiness of a strong shoulder under her cheek. The quiet tune of "The Power of Love" coming from the TV told her that the movie had finished.

Her eyes fluttered open, giving into the lure of wakefulness. She could feel the rhythmic beating of Michael's heart from where her head lay, and she could hear his regular breathing. He was asleep.

She stirred slightly and his grip on her shoulder tightened slightly, hugging her to him. Isabel smiled sleepily for a moment, relishing in the long-forgotten feeling of waking beside someone she cared about, before being hit with the blunt reality that it was Michael. He wasn't her husband, or her boyfriend, and he had that…_thing_ with Maria, that was officially over but still unofficially in the process of breaking apart.

She pulled herself slowly from his embrace, careful not to wake him, and stood up, stretching. Of course she would find herself wide-awake on the one night when none of them had to drive! She switched off the TV, the sudden lack of noise causing Michael to stir slightly, but not quite waking him up. A loud clunk from outside her door caught her attention. She frowned and went to gaze out of the peephole.

Another thump followed, and then a loud giggle, that was quickly shushed by Kyle's familiar voice. She rolled her eyes with a grin. 'I guess he met someone,' she thought in amusement.

"It's…the card thing's not working!" she could hear him cry through the door, laughing himself. He was clearly loaded.

She heard a girl whisper, though she couldn't quite make out what she said. There was a sudden chorus of laughter from the couple in the hallway. Isabel heard the bedsprings behind her creak and turned to look at Michael. "Sounds like Kyle made a new friend at the bar," she laughed. He shook his head in amusement and climbed to his feet, stretching his arms up over his head so that his shirt rode up a little. She turned away.

There was another clunk. "Careful, you'll spill your purse," Kyle's voice was muffled slightly, but he was drunk enough that he couldn't really control the volume. Michael and Isabel both pressed themselves to the door to listen, twin smirks on their faces. "Here let me try and see if I've developed any magic Alien door opening abilities!"

There was another chorus of laughter from the hall and Michael and Isabel's smiles dropped instantly. "Oh, Kyle no," Isabel muttered. "Don't talk about—" before she could finish she wrenched the door open quickly, blocking Michael's view momentarily from the hallway.

The second that she did it she wished that she hadn't opened the door. Across the hall and one room over Kyle turned towards the sound of the opening door in surprise, his hand waving over the card key machine in a fruitless effort to open the motel room door. Beside him Maria was leaning against the door, doubled over in soundless laughter at his antics. They were both clearly drunk. Isabel was only vaguely aware of her sudden relief that Kyle hadn't gone blabbing the aliens' secrets to strangers.

Kyle's surprise was quickly forgotten and he greeted her with a loopy smile. "Issy!" he cheered. Maria looked up too and opened her arms in a drunken welcome. "Is, I think the card's broken…" Isabel braced herself for the backlash the second she felt Michael step up behind her, looking over her shoulder into the hallway.

"Michael?" Maria's laughter trickled off slightly as she looked over Isabel's shoulder in confusion.

"What's going on?" Kyle asked, suddenly sounding a little less drunk, though he swayed a little on his feet and him and Maria put hands out automatically to steady each other.

"I should maybe be asking you the same thing," Michael answered disapprovingly, looking between them. "I thought you were going to go to the bar down the road to pick up…" he didn't seem to be able to finish the sentence though, and Isabel thought she could detect a note of disgust in his voice as he looked at them.

"I did," Kyle nodded vigorously, with the slight laugh of the drunken. "But then Maria came by so I hung out with her instead…" Michael leaned towards Isabel and braced one hand on the door above hers while Kyle spoke, listening closely. She didn't have to see him to feel his eyebrows rise. "What are _you_ two doing?" Kyle asked them.

Maria cocked her head to the side slightly, and even through her drunken gaze Isabel could see the glimmer of hurt in the girls eyes as she looked at the two aliens, standing so close together. She knew that had always been a small fear of Maria's and she felt a sudden swell of guilt, though she knew that they had done nothing wrong.

"We were watching a movie," Michael told him stiffly, but didn't budge from his position. Kyle's arm was still around Maria's waist and he and Michael stared each other down in silence. Isabel wondered if maybe they were trying to hurt each other; and she figured that it was working. She had to admit that the thought of seeing Maria and Kyle together like that, so comfortable…it made her a little more jealous than she would have liked to admit.

But a jealous Michael was a dangerous Michael, so she stepped in. "Well, I hope you had fun," she said lamely, with a weak smile. Maria seemed to appreciate the effort at least, and nodded. She turned to Kyle with another drunken grin.

"Thank-you for walking me home anyways," she rested her hand on his bicep for a brief second. Kyle grinned back.

"No problem," he nodded to her. "Is, her key card doesn't seem to be working…"

"Oh, of course," Isabel nodded and, glad for something to do to break up the awkwardness (Michael still hadn't spoken in a while), she took the card from Kyle and crossed over to the door. She swiped the card and used her powers to unlock it. "There you go," she said, holding the door open for Maria.

"Thank-you," Maria smiled, seemingly grateful to get away from Michael's glares. "Okay, well…good-night then!" She gave Kyle one last wink and slipped into her room. They heard the chain lock, and knew that was her way of postponing any confrontations from Michael until the next morning.

Kyle swayed on his feet a little again. "I think I should also go to bed," he declared, able to look at them now that they weren't standing so close together. He smiled a forced grin at Isabel and turned to Michael. "I…I really was just walking her back to her room." Michael didn't answer but Isabel could feel the pulsating anger ebb out of him a bit. "Good night then."

"Good night Kyle," Isabel replied softly to his retreating form. Kyle waved a hand over his head in goodbye and he shuffled off.

Michael tapped his fingers on the doorframe irritably, not looking at her. She sighed and pushed the door open wider, slipping past him and into the room. His gaze stayed on the doorframe. "They didn't do anything wrong, Michael," she finally said.

He looked up and nodded. "I know," he assured her. "But…neither did we. Right?" She shook her head silently, but didn't know what to say to that…she still felt a little guilty.

"Goodnight, Michael," she said instead, walking back over to him and putting her hand on the door, hinting that he should leave. He nodded and let his hand rub her shoulder once before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Good-night, Isabel."

Once he'd gone she sighed again and closed the door, sliding the chain lock into place.

TBC…


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Disperse

New York proved to be a good move, for all of them. It was a city so vast that they found they were able to get lost in the crowd with very little effort on their part. Michael altered their ids for them again, but this time opted wisely to give them real names, instead of ones named after cocktails. They knew that proximity was more important right now than luxury, and so they took three apartments in the only building that they could find with three decent vacancies. Michael and Kyle moved into a two-bedroom space down the hall from Isabel and Maria, and Max and Liz took a one bedroom a floor below theirs.

Jobs were easy to come by too, if you weren't too choosy about what you did and already had some skills to build on. Michael found that he missed being a guys' guy, and got a job as a security guard at large, nameless corporation. Maria and Liz stuck to their roots and found work as servers at a bar across from their apartment building. Kyle went back to the kind of work that he hated: a mechanics assistant in a small garage. Max found work in a small, independent art gallery, where he didn't really have to speak to members of the general public. And Isabel, who had never really held a job before but had the uncanny ability to organize and make people trust her, proved to be a very popular party planner with a little creative doctoring to her resume.

For two months they encountered no problems in the city…not a single one of an alien nature anyways. In fact, things were going so well that Maria likened them to an episode of Friends; she was of course quirky, loveable Phoebe. Max called another meeting, about ten weeks after they'd arrived in New York, to discuss the next step.

They all gathered in Max and Liz's living room, waiting for the meeting to begin. "Where the heck is Isabel?" Kyle whined and threw himself on the couch, munching on a cookie from the batch Liz had baked the night before. "I have to get back to the shop soon."

Everyone looked to Maria expectantly. "How should I know," she shrugged defensively. "The girl is up and out of the house before seven o'clock in the morning…I don't even see her until she gets home after dinner."

"She'll be here soon," Michael told them, slumping into the last available spot on the couch. "She had a team meeting or something at one so she said she might run a little late." They all looked at him in surprise but accepted the answer.

Sure enough, not five minutes later, the door lock opened with a click and Isabel breezed into the room, arms laden with shopping bags and a huge grin on her face. "Sorry I'm late," she apologized, setting the bags down and perching gracefully on the sofa arm beside Michael. "I had a team meeting at one, and then the best thing happened to me!"

"You fell into the GAP?" Maria asked, trying to peek into one of the bags. Isabel rolled her eyes and swatted her hands away.

"No, I got a promotion…and a nice cash bonus!" Maria's eyebrows rose at that and her, Liz and Isabel shared an excited, non-sense, girlie jabber.

"That's great, Isabel," Max interrupted them with an impatient smile. "But we were going to-"

"What? I got you all gifts!" she countered defensively.

"Gifts?" Kyle perked up instantly.

"But if you don't want yours," she continued, shooting Max a wry grin. "I can always give it to Kyle."

"No, I want it," Max assured her with a roll of his eyes. "But can we save the gifts until after the meeting?"

"Fine," she shrugged and leaned back against the couch back, bumping Michael until she found a comfy spot.

"Okay, now that we're all here," Max shot his sister one last look. "I wanted to find out if any of you have spotted anything unusual, or suspicious since we've arrived in New York?"

"Other from the standard unusual, you mean?" Kyle asked.

"Well, yeah," Max shrugged.

"I haven't seen anything," Liz said eagerly. "We don't even really get regular customers in the bar, so I definitely would have noticed if someone had been hanging around." Maria nodded at that.

"Good," Max sighed in relief. "What about you?" he looked at the others, particularly at Michael though, who tended to be the most alert for that type of thing.

"No, it's been quiet," Michael assured him. "More quiet than I would have thought. Most of the guys I'm working with have been there for a few years, and the rest of them turn over so quickly that they couldn't be getting any info on me if they were trying to."

"I never see my customers again after an event," Isabel shrugged.

"I work in a garage," Kyle added with a bored sigh. "People don't hang out there unless they have to."

"Good," Max smiled, encouraged by what he obviously believed to be good news. "I'd like the three of us to make a visit down to the other pod chamber," Max told Michael and Isabel. "If we don't find anything there to suggest that someone's on to us, than I think it might be safe to make this a more permanent stop."

"What about Lonnie and Rath?" Isabel asked him, sitting up now. Beside her Michael sat to full attention too. "Are you expecting to find them too?"

"I don't know," Max admitted. "I'm hoping that we don't, but…we'll have to see how that goes I guess. They don't want exposure anymore than we do, but I'm still thinking that if we find them we don't let them know where we're staying, working, or what our names are now."

"I don't trust them either," Michael agreed. Isabel looked uncomfortable. "What?" he asked her.

"I think they might be able to tell us more about where we come from," Isabel admitted shakily. They all looked at her in shock that she would even suggest it. "They know more about Antar, and Lonnie actually remembers it. I wouldn't mind knowing either. It would be nice to know what I did…" she trailed off, not able to finish that sentence. Michael and Kyle looked at her with concern but she shook her head. "They might know why we're here, and what we can do to have all of these people stop looking for us."

"Or they might try to kill us," Liz cried and placed a hand on Max's knee trying to get him to listen to her. "Lonnie and Rath aren't stable…they're murders! They killed Zan, and they would have killed Ava and Tess if they had got the chance! We can't trust them!"

"Liz is right," Max told Isabel, predictably. "I saw them Isabel, when Tess and I came here…they don't have any concern for the well being of anyone else. They just want to get home, and they'll stop whoever gets in their way."

"Maybe we can work with that though!" Isabel protested. "They can't get home without the King to arrange it…so maybe we help them get back to Antar in exchange for them working with us…" she trailed off, knowing that it was hopeless. Even if she could somehow convince her own friends, they didn't know that they could convince the dupes.

No one seemed to want to touch that conversation anymore. Instead Max turned his attention to Kyle. "Have you started to develop any powers, Kyle?" he asked him. The others all looked up in rapt attention now, knowing that Kyle's response would determine a lot of what would happen to the group.

Kyle looked like he wanted to gulp. "No," he finally admitted. "Alien free since 2003." Isabel and Maria smiled faintly.

"Ava said that once you heal someone, they're changed," Liz reminded Max. "Maybe Kyle's symptoms just take longer to show up."

"I just can't help but thinking that if Kyle was going to develop any powers he would have by now," Max insisted. "It's possible that he just isn't going to."

"Now don't tease," Kyle laughed bitterly. "I could wake up one day ten years from now and start blowing holes through walls!"

"Maybe Kyle's just in better control of his emotions," Maria suggested with a shrug. "No offence Lizzy, but your powers didn't start to show until you got to the point that you were so miserable inside that they just exploded out of you. Maybe as long as Kyle can keep himself in check emotionally, he won't show any powers."

"Ah, yes," Kyle kicked at her leg playfully, a grin on his face. "So Kyle just needs to meditate three times a day to ward off the alien powers." They all laughed at that. "Sounds simple enough."

"Either way," Max said forcefully, trying to steer the conversation in the way that he'd been aiming for. "Kyle's powers don't seem to be a threat to him or to us."

"You're thinking about splitting us up aren't you?" Isabel asked him quietly, her eyes locking onto his desperately. All the last remnants of laughter died off from the group.

"Yes," Max replied sadly. "It seems like the right time to do it, before we get too integrated into these lives." Maria and Kyle stiffened at those words. Max turned to them. "What do you guys think?"

Liz shook her head frantically but didn't seem to be able to form words. Isabel and Michael frowned, Isabel's bottom lip quivered slightly, and they couldn't seem to look at anyone besides their own hands. Finally Maria sighed.

"Kyle and I have talked this over," Maria told the group, and Kyle nodded vaguely, biting his nails and staring hard at the coffee table in front of him. "Hundreds of times actually…I think I'm going to go." Liz gasped and a stream of tears began to make their way down her cheeks. She reached out and hugged Maria tightly; the others could hear her muttering nonsensically into Maria's shoulder. Maria just hugged her back in silence, her eyes seeking out Michaels.

"What about you?" Isabel asked Kyle, her voice quivering slightly. He raised his eyes up to meet hers.

"I'm going to go with her," Kyle told them all, but spoke only to Isabel. "Whether or not my powers start to develop, I'm going with her." Isabel nodded. She felt Michael's hand squeeze her knee supportively and only then realized that she too was crying. Before she knew what she was doing, she was reaching over Michael and hugging Kyle tightly. Michael gave a huff of annoyance, but sat back in his seat to give her room anyways. Kyle stoked her hair and squeezed her back so tightly that it hurt a little bit.

"Okay," Max said softly, though they all heard him. "Okay…"

* * *

Isabel sighed and squared her shoulders, slipping into her position on the floor. She sat cross-legged and stared directly at the girl in front of her. "What colour do you like?"

Maria shrugged and shook her head. "I don't know," she admitted. "What colour do you change to so that you can run away?" Isabel tried to smile at that.

"You're not running away Maria," she reminded her roommate. "You're running towards something."

"Right," Maria nodded, though she sounded entirely unconvinced. She slapped her hands down on her knees and sighed. "Let's try for a dark brown then."

Isabel nodded and closed her eyes, concentrating on the colour in her mind. She waved her hands down the sides of Maria's hair, from root to tip. When she opened her eyes again the strands were now a silky dark brown, with auburn highlights when the light hit it just right. Maria picked up the mirror that they'd propped on the floor beside them.

"Not bad," she remarked, turning her head to see all angles. "Maybe a bit shorter?" Isabel nodded again and waved her hands again, this time pulling away to reveal locks that had been cut just above the shoulders.

"I think it would look good with bangs," Isabel said quietly. "Long ones." Maria considered that for a minute before nodding. Isabel moved her hand across Maria's face in a diagonal motion, leaving a set of long, angular bangs.

"Woah," Maria gasped quietly, looking into the mirror again.

"You look like a completely different person," Isabel remarked sadly. Maria paused…

Isabel was suddenly reminded of the first time that they had done this, over two years ago. Maria had been so shocked at her ability to make those changes that she asked her, wide-eyed, "what else can you change?" Isabel had replied with a smirk and, tossing her long blonde locks back, she waved a hand and turned Maria's eyes blue, and her own lips a dark red. "Can you do the twins too?" They had laughed over that…

Now Isabel looked at her and wanted to cry. In just a few short hours Maria and Kyle would be gone. In the weeks since their fateful meeting, the preparations had been steady. Maria and Liz had been taking one-dollar bills from the bar instead of coins; the aliens had been changing them into 100s. Isabel had also been saving up the cash that she'd been getting from work bonuses and commissions, in case Kyle and Maria encountered any problems with the forged currency. Max was taking care of their plane tickets to the destination of their choice, and Michael took care of getting his hands on fake passports for them. It was all planned out, and it was all suddenly very real.

"Maria," Isabel said softly, tears forming in her eyes.

"Isabel," Maria set the mirror down. Isabel opened her mouth to speak but no words formed. She tried again. "Isabel, it's okay…" they both smiled sadly as tears began to stream down their faces.

"I'm sorry," Isabel finally got out, brushing some tears away.

"It's okay, I was probably going to cry any-"

"No," she shook her head and now swiped furiously at the tears rolling down her cheeks. "I'm sorry that our Czechoslovakian life had to affect yours so much. You should have been able to have a normal life all along…and I'm really sorry that it's gone and complicated things for you and Michael. You both deserved to be happy…"

Maria laughed through her tears. "Okay, first of all," Maria took her hand soothingly. "Me and Michael haven't really been me and Michael for a while now. Second of all, me and Michael got complicated because we both didn't know how not to complicate it: even when there was nothing Czechoslovakian going on, we still couldn't make it work. Third, I willingly got involved in this alien thing –that's no one's fault but mine. And I don't regret it – any of it."

Isabel nodded, seemingly accepting that. "Okay," she replied. They were silent for a few more minutes. "So…Paris huh?"

"Yeah," Maria nodded with a grin – excited.

"What do you think you'll do when you get there?" Isabel asked eagerly.

"To be honest, I don't really know," Maria admitted with a laugh. "And that's really exciting! It's a different kind of unknown than what we've been living with, and it's kind of…great!" They both laughed at that.

"And you and Kyle," Isabel continued hesitantly. "You'll stay together right? At least for a little while?"

Maria nodded quickly. "Definitely," she promised. "We're going to see the world together, and one day we'll have houses and families side by side."

"You can tell your grandchildren about the wacky aliens that you knew once upon a time," Isabel joked and they both smiled again.

"Yeah…" Maria trailed off, her grin slowly fading. After another few minutes of silence they both seemed to decide at the same time that it was time to get up off of the floor.

"Have you packed everything?" Isabel asked her. Maria nodded.

"Yeah," she replied, dusting her pants off. "And I cleaned everything out for Michael to move in." Isabel nodded now. They had all decided that it made the most sense for Michael to move into Maria's room when she left, so that they could get rid of the third apartment all together. They both set about gathering up Maria's things: a huge backpack, a couple of boxes full of the belongings that she wasn't able to bring along with her, her purse. Once the items were all stacked together in the kitchen they stood facing one another again.

"I'm going to miss you," Isabel admitted. "You were a great roommate, and Michael's going to be…"

"Yeah," Maria laughed at that. "I'm going to miss you too! I have a feeling that Kyle isn't going to be quite so clean."

Not sure what else to say, they pulled each other into a tight embrace that lasted for a few minutes. Finally, Maria pulled away with a small smile. "I'm going to bring this box down to Liz," she told the taller girl. "It's got some things I'd like her to keep."

"Okay," Isabel nodded, willing herself not to cry again. "Do you need help with those?"

"No, it's okay," Maria shook her head. "This one is the only one for Liz." She pointed at the remaining two boxes in turn. "That one if for Michael…I'll give it to him later. And that one…it's just some candles and stuff for the apartment. I thought that you could have it if you wanted."

"Okay, that sounds great, thanks," Isabel nodded acceptingly.

"All right, I'll see you in a little while then," Maria opened the door and looked back over her shoulder. "You're coming to the airport right?"

"Try and stop me," Isabel promised. Maria smiled and then was gone. Isabel's smile faded off of her face immediately, and the depression hit again. Silently she picked up the box that Maria had indicated and placed it in her room; she'd go through it later.

She checked her watch and realized that she had a couple of hours before they had to leave for the airport. A small smirk spread across her face as she hurried into the kitchen.

* * *

"I can't believe you waited this long to pack," Michael rolled his eyes and grabbed a couple of t-shirts off of the pile that Kyle was frantically trying to pack. He started folding them.

"Just, don't tell Isabel," Kyle muttered. "She'll freak. Besides, it's not like I wasn't doing anything! I was helping you pack up all of this junk to move it across the hall."

"True, I guess," Michael shrugged. He paused and rolled his eyes at one of the t-shirts. "Seriously?" he asked, holding up the "WANNA RUB MY BUDDAH?" shirt sceptically.

"What?" Kyle frowned defensively and snatched the shirt away, folding it up and tossing it into his own huge backpack. "I liked it."

"And I'm sure the French girls will too," Michael joked. They finished folding up Kyle's clothes in silence, and before they knew it, everything was packed.

"I guess that's all of it," Kyle looked around the apartment for any stray items.

"Guess so," Michael nodded uncomfortably.

"Look, I have this favour to ask," Kyle sighed and removed an envelope from the back pocket of his jeans. "And I just didn't want to go to Max."

"What's up?" Michael asked him curiously…and with a little dread. Kyle handed him the envelope, a letter address to Jim Valenti. "Kyle…"

"It's just that we're leaving the country," Kyle cut him off, knowing what the next words out of his mouth would be. "And since I'm never going to see him again I have to let him know that Maria and I are okay. He can tell her mom…we just couldn't leave without giving them something."

"What if it gets tracked back to us?" Michael asked weakly, already knowing that he'd send it.

"I didn't put a return address," Kyle pointed out. "And there's nothing inside about where we are now, or where we're going. It just says that we're all okay, and that Maria and I – well actually that Margarita and I-- are getting out. They need to know. Please man…"

Michael nodded reluctantly. "Thank-you," Kyle clapped his shoulder seriously. "I thought that maybe if you could change the envelope to look like it was from some kind of record company then anyone monitoring the mail would think it was for the Kit Shickers, and leave it alone."

"But your dad would be sure to open it," Michael nodded, understanding the line of thinking. He waved his hand over the top left corner of the envelope, and a black and blue logo, for the Artists Recording Studios, appeared there.

"Thanks Michael," Kyle said again, this time a little uncomfortably. Michael folded the envelope and put in into his back pocket.

"Since it's the time for favours," Michael looked at Kyle seriously.

"What?" Kyle raised his eyebrows, but stood up straighter, eager to help.

"I just want to know that Maria's going to be okay," Michael admitted. "That you're not going to run off on her once you meet some cute French girl or whatever. She doesn't like to admit it, but sometimes she needs someone to take care of her."

"I will," Kyle promised readily, as if it were a given. "You've got to understand that I've know Maria my whole life Michael. The thought of leaving her alone would be like you leaving Isabel and Max on their own…it just wouldn't happen. We'll keep moving around together, and when we finally settle in one place we'll both stay there. I promise, she won't be alone."

"Okay," Michael replied gratefully. Just because he and Maria had broken up, it didn't mean that he didn't care about her still, or that he didn't want her to be safe and happy. They were saved from anymore awkward moments by a knock on the door. Michael was closest so he hurried over to open it while Kyle made a show of double-checking that all of the zippers on his bag were closed properly.

"Hi," Isabel greeted when Michael let her in. He nodded in return and Kyle looked up with a smile.

"What's that?" Michael asked her eagerly, eyeing the large zip-lock bag in her hands.

"I made cookies," Isabel told him. Michael grinned and tried to grab one but she swatted his hands away. "For Kyle!"

"Aw, come on," Michael whined. "I want some too!"

"These are for him to eat on the plane," she ignored Michael's whining and handed the bag to Kyle. "You know that they don't feed you half of the time on flights. There's some of those disgusting poppy seed ones that Maria likes in there too."

"Thanks," Kyle grinned and took the bag, tucking it into one of the smaller pockets on his backpack.

"Hey man, can I have a cookie?" Michael asked eagerly.

Isabel sighed and rolled her eyes. "There's a plate of oatmeal ones on the counter for you," she told him. Michael grinned, kissed her cheek, and hurried out the door across the hall.

Kyle and Isabel laughed at him but the laughter trickled off when they realized that they were now alone and had only a couple of minutes before their car was supposed to arrive. Kyle finished toying with his backpack and just stared back at her. Her eyes had that watery, I'm about to cry look to them and it broke his heart a bit. Plus it made him want to cry.

They didn't really need words though, and the next thing that he knew she was hugging him back tightly, her face buried in his shoulders and her fingers twisting in his t-shirt. He squeezed back, as tight as he could. When she finally pulled back he felt himself leer. "I can't believe I missed my last chance to cop a feel!" he cried in mock outrage.

The tears were readily streaming down her cheeks by now, but she laughed through them and he thought she looked beautiful. "Well," she rolled her eyes. "Maybe not your last chance." He looked confused but then laughed in return when she hugged him again. Despite the large part of him that wanted to, he didn't try to cop a feel. He just hugged her back and tried not to think about the fact that he was so in love with her and would never see her again.

The thought was enough to allow himself to bury his face in the soft expanse of her neck, breathing in her smell, and weaving a hand through her hair. He was horrified to find that his eyes were uncomfortably wet, and prayed that she wouldn't notice. If she did she didn't say anything about it.

"I love you," she told him instead. "And I'm going to miss you, everyday."

"You too," he nodded against her skin. "I love you too."

They pulled away slightly and looked at each other. She reached a hand up and wiped a tear off of his cheek, before repeating the process on her own cheeks. He willed himself not to sink into the floor in embarrassment.

"Only you could make me cry like an idiot, Is," he admitted with a laugh. She laughed too and then leaned forward and pressed a short, sweet kiss to his lips, resting her forehead against his. They held each other's gaze for a while, communicating without words. As much as he loved her, she was also his best friend, and he would miss her more for that than for anything.

The door opened and Michael came back in, a half empty plate of cookies in his hand. "These are great Is—" his words were muffled by the half masticated cookie in his mouth. He paused though when he saw them, standing that close together. "Sorry…am I…uh…I can go…"

"It's okay," Isabel shook her head but didn't take her eyes off of Kyle. He smiled back at her and released her. They were done.

"We were just about to go and meet the others," Kyle told him, grabbing a cookie off of the plate and shouldering his enormous backpack. "He's right they are good!"

"Well duh," she rolled her eyes, and wiped away the last of her own tears, grabbing Kyle's jacket off of the kitchen table. Michael looked back at her in concern but she shook it off with a smile. "Did you see Maria?"

He nodded. "Yeah, before you came over," he told her. "And I brought her bag down just now…"

"So I guess it's time to go then," Kyle finished for them. He looked around the apartment one last time, shot a weak smile at where Isabel and Michael were standing together, and led the way out. They followed him in silence.

* * *

Around them thousands of people hustled by, dragging large suitcases, heavy backpacks, and various carry-ons, but the six of them didn't notice. They stood, grouped closely together, in front of the departures queue, delaying the inevidible. Liz was crying lightly and talking to Maria rapidly, semmingly not able to speak fast enough to convey all of the words that she had. Isabel and Kyle were chatting quietly, their conversation punctuated occasionally by a comment from Michael or a quirky smile from Kyle. Max watched.

He watched the most important people in his life say good-bye to each other and he wondered if he had done the right thing. He had been a king, once upon a time, and his mistakes then had cost him so much…he was so terrified of doing the same thing now. The logical part of Max knew that Kyle and Maria would be getting the new start that he wished so desperately for himself and Liz, but the rest of him only saw the pain that they were all feeling for loosing yet another part of their group. That thought made him think of Alex, and Tess, and he knew for certain now that this was for the best. If something were to happen to Maria or Kyle because of him, and the enemies that he'd made in another life…he didn't want to think about it. Just like he didn't want to think about what would happen when it became apparent that Liz too would need to get out. He'd lost one wife already…he couldn't loose the another…

"This is a boarding call for United Flight 125 to Paris Charles De Gualle," a voice announced over the loudspeakers. "All passengers should now begin boarding. Please have your boarding passes and passports ready at the gate."

"I guess that's you," Max heard himself saying trying for a smile but not quite achieving one. Maria and Kyle nodded at him and he couldn't help the swell of paranoia that they blamed all of this on him.

"I guess so," Kyle nodded at him. "You take care Max…and thanks. For, you know, saving my life." Max smiled weakly at that and him and Kyle hugged, their past disagreements long forgotten. Behind them Maria and Isabel were hugging.

"You too Kyle," he countered. "Be safe."

Kyle wandered over to say his goodbyes to Michael and Maria came over to give Max a hug. "Bye Max," she mumbled into his shoulder, pulling back to look up at him with a teary smile. Max didn't know what to say to her, because his throat seemed to be swelling up, so he squeezed her hand once in his and kissed her cheek.

"Bye," he said very quietly. She bit her lip and moved to hug Michael next. Max found that he couldn't bring himself to watch them say good-bye, and turned instead to where Kyle and Liz were laughing about something. Kyle poked her in the side with a smirk and she giggled, shook her head and threw her arms around his neck tightly. Kyle hugged her back, whispered something in her ear and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

When Max looked again Michael and Maria were pulling out of their hug, tears in both of their eyes. Michael came and stood beside Max and they watched the others say goodbye. Maria and Liz weren't speaking at all, they were just hugging tightly. Max could see Liz's shoulders shaking and Maria started to rub her back soothingly.

He then followed Michael's gaze to where Kyle and Isabel were whispering hurridly to each other, foreheads pressed together. His sister was crying openly and Max feared that she was falling apart. By the way Michael stiffened beside him he knew that he was thinking the same thing. Then Kyle took Isabel's face in his hands, kissed her

quickly, and pulled away with a look of such regret on his face that Max felt it like a blow to the stomach.

"Maria," Kyle said brokenly, looking at the gate. The line to board had disappeared completely and they had to get on the plane. Maria seemed to know exactly what she was trying to say, and pulled away from Liz. Liz stared after them as they joined hands and walked over to the airline attendants, showing their passports and boarding passes. They were waved through.

Just before disappearing through the gate both Kyle and Maria looked back, giving shaky smiles. Kyle gave them a final wave. They all waved back, and then watched as two of their group disappeared forever.

TBC…

A/N: Feedback please :0)


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Histories

_A/N: Well it's been a while since my last update, but I've been out of the country so that's kindof taken the front seat in terms of things to do! Anyways, here's chapter 3 now; to be fair, it's pretty long. I've started chapter 4 now, so hopefully that'll be up in the next week or so. Thanks for the nice reviews everyone...it's nice ot know that people are still into this show even though its been over for a while now!_

* * *

"Eww."

That was the first word that had been uttered in the last five minutes, and though he didn't necessarily share his sister's choice of word for the situation they found themselves in, Max Evans agreed wholeheartedly with the sentiment. Eww was right.

"They live in a sewer?" Michael asked in disgust, though it wasn't really a question. He knew that they would never be down there unless they knew for sure. Isabel squeaked suddenly as a rat scurried by, clutching tightly onto both Max and Michael's arms.

"Oh my God," she muttered, shaking her head. "Let's hurry up please," she begged them. "I just want to get out of here."

Max nodded and stepped in front of them, leading the way that he remembered from his lone visit there two years before. After a couple of more minutes of walking they climbed up a final ladder, to a raised level of sewer, and came out onto the platform of what had at one time probably been a rail route. It now housed a makeshift home, the same furniture that had been there two years before.

The dupes weren't there right now, but as Max looked around he was flooded with memories from the last time, and he could almost see their faces. Michael picked up a guitar (missing one string) briefly, strummed the remaining strings once, and then set it back down on the sofa. A flash of Rath and Lonnie on that same sofa passed over Max briefly. He reached down to touch an abandoned hockey stick and suddenly remembered Tess flinching as a series of rocks ricoched off of the brick walls, and his orders to Rath to knock it off…the look of gratitude on his face when he sat down close beside her…

Isabel was staring transfixedly up at the pods, embedded in the brick wall, with a look of pity on her face. Michael joined her, staring hard at would have been his pod. "They were born here?" she asked quietly, he voice breaking slightly. "Into…this? Why would their protector let them stay here?"

"He had another life by the time they came out," Max told them, in no way defending the man. "He told them just enough to keep them together."

"Makes Nasedo look like the fatherly type," Michael noted, his hand unconsciously going up around Isabel's shoulders. She leaned into him, clearly feel guilty about the dupes' situation, even though she despised them.

"They sent two sets," Isabel shook her head. "They needed us to survive so badly that they sent two sets of us down here," she turned her attention to Max and Michael now. "Eight of us were born and there's only six of us left! And we still don't know what we were supposed to do here, or how we're supposed to get home!"

"We belong here Isabel," Max insisted. "We're human too, and we belong here on Earth."

"Do we?" Michael asked, still eyeing the pods. "We were sent here for a reason Maxwell—"

"And we were left to figure everything else out on our own!" Max yelled, cutting him off. Isabel blinked back at him in shock but Michael was visibly biting his lip from retorting to that. "They sent us to make our way here with a murder, and they sent them to be abandoned! We're better off on this planet!"

"What about Antar?" Isabel insisted, her voice a little shaky. "Are they better off with us here? What if we're subjecting them to…they sent us here so we could stop Khivar. We can't just abandon them—"

"They abandoned us," Max cut her off too. "They know that we're here now, without a protector, or anyone who knows about Antar. They _know_, and they haven't done anything about it! They must know that Tess is dead…they just stopped trying to reach us!"

"Or maybe we just stopped trying to listen," Michael pointed out. "We've been hard to pin down lately you know—"

"No," Max shook his head stubbornly, knowing that he was being unreasonable but not caring. He took a deep breath and looked around the room again, one more time seeing those same images of the people that once stood there, the Royal Four. "I'm done letting them decide my destiny for me. I'm done even entertaining notions that we're supposed to go back there, okay? Coming here has just solidified that fact for me…I'm choosing to live my life here on Earth with Liz. Not on some distant planet with someone who no longer even exists. I have a new destiny now."

Michael stared back at him defiantly, but wisely chose not to say anything. Isabel just continued to stare up at the pods. Max couldn't bring himself to hold Michael's gaze any longer, and so he instead allowed himself to wander around the space a bit, seeing more than he had the last time. The others did the same.

Isabel found a rickety old bookshelf, filled mostly with old skin magazines, and the odd ripped book. She picked up a copy of Nineteen Eighty Four and flipped idly through the pages. Michael started snooping through a stack of abandoned CDs, most of which were scratched badly or broken in half. Max inspected a corner that had a variety of faded posters on the walls.

Old band posters and once-colourful Broadway show pictures seemed to have been their only real effort at making the place homey. A Stomp poster swung precariously from the lone piece of blue tack that was still holding it up. He moved his arm to re-stick the poster, but the slight breeze caused it to sway and flutter down to the ground. That got Isabel's attention and she looked over, following Max's gaze to the lines that had been carved into the wall. He must have been staring intently, because she came over to join him. "What is it Max?"

He pointed wordlessly to what looked to be charcoal lines that made their way up the wall. Growth marks. Each line had a name scribbled beside it, the lowest ones in childish writing, and the higher ones in the steady hand of a grown up. Isabel's eyes teared up a bit looking at it, and Max found himself staring hard at the first set of lines, and the name Zan printed in small capital letters. Ava had always been the smallest, Rath the biggest.

Michael was behind them now, looking at the markings too. Wordlessly he reached around Max and tugged at another poster. It fell away to reveal a couple of chipped bricks. Something had obviously been carved into the stone, deep and jagged, as if made with a knife or another rock. The other posters came down quickly after that.

Within two minutes they had cleared several feet of wall space that had apparently been used as a sort of makeshift scrapbook over the years. Black paint and various markers spelled out things like "Antar", "Destiny", "New York", "Punk Rock Prom Queen", and "Royal Four". There were a couple of sketches painted there too, small ones, like those that Michael had done in the past, obviously remembering battles and things from their past lives. And finally, carved deep into the brick, in the very middle of all of the writing, were two large hearts with two names carved in each. Zan and Ava. Rath and Lonnie.

"They were a family," Isabel said lowly from her spot between them. She shook her head and Max could hear the trembling in her voice. "The four of them…they obviously loved each other. What happened to them? How did they go from the four of them to…what they are now?"

"They grew up," a harshly familiar voice growled from behind them. Max was embarrassed to admit that it surprised them, and they all jumped, turning around suddenly. In the entranceway to the tunnel Lonnie stood facing them with a smirk, cold and harsh. Rath stepped up behind her silently, mirroring her cool gaze and eyeing Isabel with a glint of desire in his eyes…and something much more sinister. "They learned the ways of the big bad world," Lonnie continued, moaning a little while Rath let his hand rub the back of her neck, his gaze never wavering from Isabel. "They started to remember things…and they started to realize that nothing on this planet is worth a damn thing except for themselves." Rath kissed her neck and his eyes flashed dangerously.

Beside him Max felt Isabel staring back in fascination, looking at the man that looked so much like the boy she'd grown up with. Max knew that fascination though, because he'd felt the uncomfortable tug in his stomach when he saw Ava, the almost twisted variation of Tess. The Dupes were repulsive, being murderers and all, but there was something about them that was hard to ignore. Max supposed that the feelings stemmed from the unconscious desire to pair off with their destined mates; and the Dupes offered the physical desire without the messy complications of being people that they knew through and through.

Isabel continued to stare at Rath and Lonnie in a mixture of fascination and fear, and Max could hear her breath become slightly more laboured. Michael frowned at the Dupes and took a step closer to Isabel.

Rath let his hand cup Lonnie's backside briefly before stepping around her and striding confidently into the room. "You know breaking and entering is actually considered a crime," he mocked them, coming to a stop a few feet in front of them and leaning against the couch back. He looked Isabel up and down obviously and leered. "But Issy… is sure is nice to see you again doll."

Isabel's look of fascination quickly vanished and she scowled at him. Max felt his stomach tighten in anger and from the clenching of Michaels fists, he guessed that he wasn't the only one. Lonnie rolled her eyes and walked over too, managing to look terrifying and yet oddly beautiful as she stood in front of them, effortlessly taking command of the room.

"What the Hell are ya doin in here?" she demanded. Her voice didn't sound angry, just annoyed, but Max wasn't fooled. She was pissed.

"We were just checking to see if you guys were okay," Isabel answered lamely, shaking her head even as she said it. Rath ran his tongue over his teeth but she looked pointedly at her own Dupe.

"Aw, how sweet," Lonnie drawled exaggeratedly with a sardonic smirk. "Golly gee Isabel that sure is nice of ya."

"We've had some trouble with the FBI in the last few months," Max cut off her mocking. Him speaking seemed to make Lonnie shut up easily, and he wondered if that was something that she could help, or if it was subconsciously engrained in her. Or maybe she was just imagining how to kill him. "We were just checking in, to make sure that they hadn't found you guys yet either."

"As if they could," Rath snorted.

Lonnie smiled again, this time a little mysteriously and not quite so cruelly. "We can take care of them Feds just fine on our own Maxie," she assured them. She crossed her arms and took a seat on the couch back beside Rath. He slung a heavy arm around her shoulders and they both stared back challengingly.

"What about Ava," Max pressed, not knowing why he needed to know.

"Ava?"

"Oh please, we haven't seen that idiot since we left her ass in New Mexico two years ago," Rath laughed, obviously amused with that. Michael and Lonnie both rolled their eyes at that.

"Where's Tess?" Lonnie countered, raising an eyebrow. Michael, Isabel and Max all shifted uncomfortably at that.

"She's dead," Max admitted reluctantly. Lonnie and Rath didn't laugh at that, but they did just nod silently, accepting it and not caring to ask for a back-story.

"And then there were six," Rath said instead, not quite joking. He leered at Isabel again even as he rubbed a hand up and down Lonnie's arm with the unconscious actions of a well-familiar lover. "Maybe we should repopulate the planet?"

Isabel snorted in disgust at him, but Max thought he saw her cheeks flush a bit. From the way Michael's jaw seemed to set and his shoulders stiffened, Max was sure he wasn't the only one who saw that.

"Well, now that we know you're alive I guess we can be going," Max said decisively, leading the way out of the tunnel. Isabel and Michael followed, him being sure to stay between her and Rath at all time. He had seen the way that creep looked at her, and worse yet, the way that she'd looked back. She'd tried not to but the fact was that she was as drawn to Rath as he was to Lonnie. Neither of them were stupid, they knew that there was a biological predetermination for attraction there….but they also both knew that the turn on wasn't really that they were meant to be partners. It was that they looked just like…

"What? You're just going to leave without staying to chat?" Rath called back, pressing a hand to his heart in mock pain. "Don't cha wanna know what we've been up to? Who we've been playing with?"

"I can only imagine," Max replied dryly, pausing briefly in the doorway. Lonnie was up off of the couch in a flash, Rath close behind her, and standing only a few feet in front of them.

"Come on now kiddies," she drawled, eyeing Michael hungrily. "Let's not be rude. Stay and play a while…just think of all the fun and games that we can get up to."

"We really need to be going," Max returned stoically. Michael felt parts of his lower anatomy tighten uncomfortably as he watch Lonnie sway slightly on the spot. She held his gaze unabashedly, even as Rath touched her back. Michael didn't know if he was more weirded out by the fact that her boyfriend didn't care, the fact that she was so blatantly hitting on him, or the fact that he was so close to letting himself be persuaded. She was beautiful, those same large eyes, long lashes, full lips, perfect curves…she looked so much like-

"Suit yourself," Lonnie shrugged, leaning back into Rath comfortably. She gave a cheery wave which was meant to do absolutely nothing other than mock them. "Oh, and Zan?"

Max froze again at that, they all did – you could hear the distant sound of the subway trains running it was so quiet in there -, and he paused to listen without actually turning back.

"If we find you in here again, going through our shit, we'll be one more King down," she told them, all traces of joking aside. Michael felt his blood run cold at that, and the attraction that he was feeling for her drained away almost instantly. Behind her Rath watched them soberly, the serious expression on his face as chilling as hers. Isabel shivered slightly and Michael put a comforting hand on her back unconsciously, letting her know that he was there and that they should just keep moving.

Lonnie stared coolly at Max's back, he still hadn't moved, and Michael suddenly thought that she looked less beautiful now. Isabel was far prettier, though they were biologically identical, because she lacked that cold, emptiness in her eyes. She radiated warmth, and Lonnie…Lonnie just wasn't her. Even if she tried.

Max didn't answer that, he just kept walking out of the tunnel and down the ladder. Isabel went next, pausing at the top of the steps when Lonnie called out to her. "See you later Vilandra." Michael looked down at her, from his place a few steps above, and she stared up at him, all watery doe eyes, and managed to keep a straight face though he could swear he saw her lower lip quiver slightly. Michael held her gaze steadily, comfortingly, and she descended the ladder to the bottom, where Max helped her jump down the last couple of feet.

Michael took his turn next, looking over his shoulder at Rath and Lonnie, waiting for whatever smart remark they would have for him. He need not have bothered, for they had lost interest in them. Michael's mouth dropped open a bit as he saw them kiss deeply, Rath's hands running up underneath her shirt and moving down to pull her roughly against him. Michael caught one last view of them tumble onto the couch, lips still crushed together, as he got a sudden flashback. _Stars, rocks, blonde hair, a blue dress, and two suns—_

"Michael!" Isabel cried, rushing over to him as he missed a rung on the ladder and dropped the last couple of steps. He caught himself before hitting the ground though, and managed to climb down the rest of the way just fine though his legs didn't feel incredibly sturdy when his feet managed to land on solid ground..

"What happened?" Max demanded, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I had a flash," Michael told them, shaking his head. All he could see now was the darkness of the sewers, lightened slightly by the lamp from above, and Max and Isabel standing beside him.

"What did you see?" Isabel asked eagerly, her hand grabbing his arm and unconsciously taking a step closer to him.

"I saw you," Michael answered her automatically, his traitorous gaze holding hers and almost forgetting that Max was there, though his hand was still resting steadily on his other shoulder. "I saw you, and we were on Antar. There were two suns…" he trailed off, not sure what else to say.

Isabel stared back at him, looking like she wanted to ask more, but perhaps realizing that it wasn't the time or place. Max nodded and clapped Michael's shoulder once more. "Let's get out of here," he told them, more a command than a suggestion. "We can talk about it when we get home."

Michael nodded at that and Isabel agreed meekly. She shot Michael a look though that clearly told him that this conversation wasn't over. He sighed.

* * *

He ran a hand through his wet hair and pulled on a clean shirt with a heavy sigh. Even though he'd had a shower he still felt that he reeked like sewer. The thought made him cringe a little bit so he sprayed himself with a bottle of cologne that was left over from his days of dates with Maria. At least now he smelt like perfumed sewer! 

Michael tousled his wet hair one last time and left his bedroom, padding barefoot into the living room. Isabel was sitting cross legged on the floor, also fresh from a shower, wearing a tank top and pyjama pants. She looked up at him with a faint smile when he entered. That's when he noticed the mirror in her hands. He walked over to stand in front of her and took in the wet strands of her hair. She smiled and reached up to touch the ends. It was much longer now, and blonder.

"It just…it looked so much like _hers_," Isabel told him, with an embarrassed smile. The way she said her left no question in his mind on who she was trying to distance herself from. "I just though that maybe it was time for a change." Michael returned the smile and lowered himself to the floor in front of her, sitting himself cross legged so they were facing each other.

"I like it," he told her. She smiled again, a different kind of embarrassed. He did like it though. She was always beautiful, she would be even if she shaved her head, but the golden halo of hair that she used to sport made her look…well she looked the opposite of Lonnie, despite their identical features.

"Michael, what did you see when you had that flash?" she asked him abruptly, jarring him out of his thoughts. Michael would have laughed at her eagerness if he hadn't been dreading that question.

"I already told you Is, I saw you," he replied vaguely. She shook her head.

"Yes but what were we doing?" she clarified. "Why do you think you had it?"

"It was just a flash," he lied, using his "I'm fine" tone. "I don't know why I had it. I just saw quick flashes of you, and the two suns."

"How do you know it was me?" she asked seriously. Michael did smile at that.

"I know it was you," he assured her.

She accepted that and nodded at him. Michael felt suddenly uncomfortable then, sitting there in front of her, but found he had no desire to get up and move away. Isabel let her fingers run over the ends of her hair once again and stared at a spot on his shoulder.

"Seeing the Dupes again," she started quietly, eyes flicking up to meet his. "It was…" she didn't seem to know how to finish that thought.

"Yeah," Michael nodded, knowing the words that she couldn't quite find. He figured she meant "strange", "uncomfortable", "exciting", "scary" all at the same time.

"Rath and Lonnie are just so…" she shook her head in disgust. "They're awful, but I can't help but feel that there's just something about them. I think that we can learn something from them Michael." She met his gaze earnestly. "I think that we can start to _remember_ something."

He remembered the way that Rath had looked at her, and felt himself shaking his head automatically in response. "No way Isabel," he insisted. "Those two are insane – they're as likely to turn us over to the feds as they are to help us."

"I know that they made you have that flash Michael," she snapped, her eyes a little frosty at his quick rebuff. "I know that Lonnie remembers life on Antar, and I know that Rath could be…persuaded to help us get our memories back." She flushed at that and stared at that point on his shoulder again, unable to meet his eyes.

Michael felt his eyes widen at her words. He knew that she was right, and part of him wanted the same thing that she did; to remember why they were there, so that they could decide what they were supposed to do with the lives they'd been given. But the other part of him, the one that sounded like Max, knew that the Dupes were bad news, and that they should probably just stay away.

"It doesn't matter Isabel," Michael said slowly. "Because Maxwell would never agree to it."

She caught his gaze again. "I want Max to do this with me…with _us_," she said in a pleading tone. "But if he won't then I will do it anyway. Max doesn't want to be our King anymore then fine, but he doesn't get to dictate what we can and cannot do then."

"I don't trust Rath," Michael told her with a sigh. "Lonnie is just as whacked as he is, but the way he looks at you…" he stopped talking abruptly, knowing immediately that he'd said too much. That she would know that he was jealous of his duplicate, and sickened by the thought of Rath touching Isabel.

"Then you'll just have to come with me," she smiled sweetly, knowing that he would cave.

"Fine."

Well, he never could tell her no.

* * *

'Nice ass,' he thought to himself with a smirk as he tilted his head to the side and checked out the shapely backside of the waitress as he strolled by the outdoor café. Just for fun, he repeated the thought out loud to her, playing with his tongue stud and waggling his eyebrows at the waitress. The girl looked at him in disgust, and beside him Lonnie snorted in amusement. 

"Smooth," she drawled. Rath shrugged it off and slung an arm around her shoulder heavily, nuzzling against her neck.

"You're hotter than her anyways," he purred into her ear and nipped at her earlobe. Lonnie rolled her eyes but didn't pull away. "She's not really my type."

Lonnie stopped short and nodded towards a curvy blonde hurrying across a busy street. "She's kinda your type though isn't she?"

Rath frowned and looked up, just in time to see a once again blonde Isabel Evans hurry down a set of stairs into the nearest subway stop. Rath and Lonnie followed her wordlessly, knowing that this was their chance to find out where their less-than-fun Dupes were staying. New York was a big city, and since the Roswell aliens weren't using their real names, they'd been having trouble tracking them down.

"Lucky running into her like that huh?" Rath commented, as they slipped into the subway car behind hers. He could see her through the connecting doorway; he smirked as she failed to notice his staring, because she was wrapped up in talking to an old lady sitting beside her.

"Yeah," Lonnie nodded, but she didn't sound too convinced. That girl was a bit of a mystery, he'd be the first to admit, but he knew her well enough to know when she was suspicious. "Lucky."

"What?" he laughed. "Do you think it was destiny?" When Lonnie didn't answer he laughed harder.

"It's not funny," Lonnie snapped. Rath stopped laughing, murmuring an apology that he didn't really mean. He was all man, of course, but he had no trouble admitting that Lonnie ran the show. She was a real force to be reckoned with, and he'd learned to say sorry very quickly when she got irritated. He figured that, back on Antar, Vilandra must have been some kind of goddess or something, because she had an ability to make him walk blindly into oncoming traffic with just a look. He wondered if Michael had that same problem with Isabel too? Or maybe it was just his Lonnie; maybe she was just special. He wondered if the preppy versions of themselves understood what it was like to be as dedicated to one person as he was to Lonnie…did Michael live and breathe for Isabel too?

"We'd better keep on her then," Rath said instead, keeping his gaze trained on Isabel but leaning up against the wall and tugging Lonnie close to his body. She nodded at that and let him pull her close. "We might get lucky."

"She might lead us to Max," Lonnie smirked. "Keep watching her." Rath nodded at that, and a slow smile spread across his face when he felt her hands start to wander.

* * *

Sometimes Liz Parker hated working in a bar. Even at four thirty in the afternoon there were drunks all over the place, and it disgusted her to no end. It also made her extremely glad that her friends couldn't drink. She checked her watch, only a few more minutes until her break. She looked back up and felt herself jump in shock. 

"Holy –"

"Sorry, did I scare ya?" Michael asked her with a smirk. He leaned on the bar and laughed openly. She tucked her hair behind her ears in embarrassment and smiled at him.

"Of course not," she lied blatantly. "You just…surprised me…what are you doing here anyways?"

"Just wanted to say hey," he shrugged. Liz frowned a little at that and peered at him closely.

"Really?" she asked suspiciously. "I would have thought that you would still be angry." He looked back at her blankly. "About last night…the fight you guys had with Max?"

Michael shrugged nonchalantly. "If I fought with Max then why would I be mad at you?" he demanded. Liz didn't know what to say about that. "Besides, Max is usually right anyway, so I should probably just let it go."

"Okay…" she laughed again, confused even more now. She never really did get him. "So, I get a break in five minutes. Did you want to get something to eat?"

"Actually I need to go and meet Isabel soon," he countered quickly. "But I went and locked myself out…"

"Of the apartment?" she laughed at that, and grabbed her purse from her cubby under the bar.

"Uh yeah," he ran a hand through his hair and shifted uncomfortably. Liz smiled kindly and, finding her purse, slung it over her shoulder.

"Well it's a good thing that I have a spare at home then isn't it?" she laughed. Michael nodded silently. "Joe I'm taking my break…I'll be back in fourty-five!" Her co-worker nodded in acknowledgement and Liz and Michael slipped out onto the wet pavement outside.

He was acting really odd. "So, uh…" she didn't quite know what to say as he trailed along behind her, clearly wanting her to lead the way. "What are you and Isabel up to tonight?"

"Movie," he replied quickly, and forced a small smile. Liz nodded slowly and looked both ways before hurrying across the street and into their building.

"Are you coming?" she asked him, slightly impatiently, when she held the door for a few seconds and he made no move to follow her. He had been staring at something down the street but he turned to look at her quickly when she spoke.

"Yeah," he grabbed the door and followed her in. "Sorry." They clomped up the three flights of stairs silently and down the hall to her apartment. She opened the door and strode right over to where her and Max kept their spare keys hung on a peg on the wall. Michael hesitated in the doorway, looking around the apartment curiously.

"Michael?" she put a hand on his arm carefully. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he nodded quickly, grabbing the keys from her hand. "Sorry…um, thanks for the keys."

"No problem," she smiled again and stepped back out into the hall. "I'm going to run to the café down the street and get some lunch. I'll see you later?"

"Yeah…see ya later," he nodded, inspecting the key chain now. He ran a finger slowly over the 312 written in Max's familiar scrawl on a piece of tape. Liz walked with him as far as his floor and then left him there, continuing on her way down. She checked her watch again, only thirty minutes left in her break. She was hungry…and she didn't stop to wonder why Michael didn't just open the door with his powers.

* * *

"She bought that?" Lonnie snorted in disbelief as Rath opened the lobby doors for her and let her into the building. "Doesn't she know that you don't need a key to open locks?" 

"Guess not," Rath laughed too and led her up to apartment 312. "Let's go look through their shit." Lonnie nodded and opened the door, not bothering with the key.

* * *

Isabel stretched her arms above her head and yawned. She reached for the remote control and turned the TV off. God she was bored. She'd been spending her evening doing her laundry, but that was growing old fast. She wanted to go out later, if only… 

As if on cue, the door opened and Michael walked in. She sat up and smiled widely. "Thank God you're here!" she chirped, jumping to her feet and hurrying over to him. He raised his eyebrows at that but didn't say anything. "Let's do something tonight! I got another bonus at work…let's go and spend it!"

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather stay in?" he asked, his voice low and a bit more sultry than usual. That made her raise her eyebrows now, and she looked at him carefully. He was wearing his favourite jeans and the blue button down that she'd bought him for his birthday the month before.

"Where's your uniform?" she asked. Michael paused at that.

"Uh…left it at work," he said. "I don't really like wearing it around when I'm not working."

"A little too Village People?" she nodded sympathetically.

"What?" he looked surprised. "Village People? Really?"

"Only a little," she lied quickly. "Besides, some girls like a guy in uniform…anyway, do you want to go out tonight? I'm so bored."

"Well since you asked so nicely," he rolled his eyes.

"Do you have plans?" she questioned.

"Of course I don't," he snickered sardonically. "I never have plans. In fact I don't even know how to have fun."

"What?" she frowned, not getting it. Was he joking?

"What did you want to do?" he asked instead, eyeing her sweats a little longer than he usually would. Why was he looking at her like that?

"A club maybe," she suggested, crossing her arms self-consciously over her chest while he stared. "Or a movie. I know you've been wanting to see that stupid Vin Diesel one that just opened."

He nodded slowly and held her gaze. "I'm hungry," he said suddenly. "Do we have any food?"

"Well I got groceries yesterday," she reminded him. "So there should be something—"

"Could you make me a sandwich?"

She sputtered. "Excuse me?"

"A sandwich," he repeated, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Ham and cheese would be fine."

She didn't know what to say to that. Michael had never told her to make food for him before…in fact he was a great cook and usually like to make dinner. What was wrong with him? Bad day?

"Are you okay?" she asked, fearing the worst.

"Fine, why?"

"You're just acting a little…strange," she admitted.

"Well I'm an alien," he pointed out. "I was born strange." She smiled slightly at that but moved into the kitchen and opened the fridge, pulling out a packet of lunchmeat and some cheese.

"So…you uh, got a bonus today?" he asked her.

Isabel smiled broadly and grabbed the mustard and bread from the cupboard. "Yeah, can you believe it? They just keep giving them out like candy," she laughed and took a place and knife out of another cupboard and started making a sandwich for him. "I guess the Pritchard wedding that I helped with went better than they expected, and the family gave an extra thousand dollars for a tip, so as the planner I'm entitled to 15 percent of it."

"That's great doll," he remarked dismissively, slumping down onto the sofa and turning the TV back on. She paused at that and stared over her shoulder at him in confusion, but decided to let it go.

Once the sandwich was finished she put the bread away and carried the plate over to him. He looked up at her and winked, snatching the plate from her hands. "You're welcome," she said bitterly.

"Thanks babe," he said around a mouthful of sandwich. "Do we have anything to drink?"

"Are you sure you're okay Michael?" she asked again, hands falling to her hips in the natural position that they did when she was preparing to scold him.

"Yeah."

"Then whey the hell are you acting like such a…"

"Such a what?" he asked, a little darkly. He swallowed the sandwich and stood up to face her, tossing the place onto the coffee table carelessly. It landed with a clatter. He must have recognized the look on her face because he quickly backtracked. "Look I'm sorry," he slung an arm around her shoulders heavily, oddly familiar, and pulled her to his side a little. "I just had a really long day."

"Okay," she nodded slowly and let herself lean against his shoulder. His hand began to move up and down her arm slowly, a bit unlike him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Nope," he said, releasing her abruptly and hopping back down onto the couch. "Why don't you go and put on something that shows off your goodies a bit more and we can find that club you wanted."

"What?" Isabel looked down at him in shock.

"Have you changed your mind?" he asked cockily. "Do you want to stay here? I'm sure we can think of something to do."

"N-no—"

"Then go get dressed," he shrugged and turned back to the TV.

Oddly enough, he was being a lot more demanding than usual, and more…well, creepy…then usual. "I wonder if Kyle and Maria will want to come with us…should I go ask them?" she took a step back from him to put a little distance between them, just in case.

"Yeah, why not," he shrugged. Within a second he was on his feet, staring in shock at her. She'd sent a blast of energy from her hand at the TV, turning it off to get his attention. "What the hell?!"

"You aren't Michael," Isabel said lowly, her voice steady and not at all showing her nervousness.

"What? Of course I am—"

"Where's Lonnie?" she demanded, cutting him off.

"How should I know?" he tried to look confused at her actions, but Isabel saw is fists clench. He didn't want to get caught, but he obviously didn't consider her much of a threat.

"I know you aren't Michael, so you can just cut the crap," she hissed. "I want to know what the hell you're doing here, Rath. How did you find out where I live?"

He opened his mouth to protest once again, but seemed to decide against it. "We saw you on the subway yesterday and then followed you."

Isabel was shocked, and knew that she probably looked it too. "What? Why? Did anyone else follow us?" she demanded, lowering her hand and hurrying over to him in panic.

"No—"

"Rath I'm not kidding," she grabbed his arm desperately. "The FBI has people out there looking for us, looking to kill us, or worse even. We're all in danger…you and Lonnie too!"

"No one followed us," Rath assured her, seemingly a little confused at her panic.

"What are you doing here?" she asked again. "What do you want?"

"What do I want?" he leered and waggled his eyebrows. Isabel stepped away from him again.

"Don't even try it or I will make you cry like a little baby girl," she warned him, holding her right hand up in warning.

Rath rolled his eyes. "Calm down Peaches," he taunted, not appearing to be very scared at all of her. Most likely he knew from Lonnie that Vilandra's powers didn't stem from raw energy like his did, and that she wasn't much of a physical threat. She almost felt sorry for him: apparently Rath and Lonnie didn't hear what she did to Congresswoman Wittager. Almost.

"Just tell me what you want, and then get the hell out of here," she repeated.

"Fair's fair Princess," he smirked. "You came poking around our place so we're just returning the favour."

"Where's Lonnie?" Isabel demanded again.

"She's not here," he ran a hand through his hair but didn't move his eyes from her, watching for any sign that she might try to attack. For some reason she believed that. When she didn't say anything else he sighed in annoyance. "So, what now? Can I go or…"

"Now we wait," she told him shortly.

"For what?"

The door opened behind her and she could feel the relief roll over her like a warm blanket. "Michael."

* * *

He'd had the longest day. As strange as it sounded, Michael actually preferred the night shift to the day one, because there were no people there, and he just got to hang out with his guys. But he'd been stuck on days all week, and was glad that it was Friday and his turn for the weekend off. 

His tie had been loosened the second that he stepped out of the door, and now hung from his pocket, the top buttons of his shirt undone, and his shirt tails un-tucked completely. His body felt tired and heavy, probably from the long shift and early start, and he mentally cursed as he began to trudge up the stairs. He'd do anything for an elevator right now.

When he reached his door he dug around in his pocket for a key. They'd been trying really hard lately to not use their powers at all in public, and so even though he was exhausted, he still looked for the damn key.

The sight that greeted him when the door opened was not a relaxing one though. Rather, the exhaustion left his body immediately and he mentally prepared himself for a fight, his senses put on high alert. Isabel stood with her back to him, her hands up as if to defend from, well…him. Standing directly in front of her was Michael, or at least someone that looked exactly like Michael. He was even wearing the familiar jeans and shirt…

"Isabel!" the real Michael called from the doorway, rushing to her side, the door closing behind him, and his hand going up to mirror hers, the raw energy already crackling around his palm. "That's Rath!"

"I know," she nodded, her hand not going down at all but the tenseness in her shoulders visibly relaxing. Michael seethed at the thought of his Dupe showing up here, looking like him, obviously trying to fool everyone.

"What happened? Did he hurt you?" Michael demanded, fighting back every urge to blast his twin to itty bitty pieces.

"Hey to you too bro," Rath snorted. "Just chill man, Princess is just fine. Not a scratch on her pretty ass." Michael growled slightly at that and turned to his friend.

"Is, are you okay?" he repeated softly. She nodded and caught his gaze, putting her hand down completely.

"I'm fine Michael," she assured him, putting her hand out to stop him from blasting anything. He lowered his hand wearily, not sure where she was going with this. "If he had wanted to hurt me he would have tried already."

"What do you want?" Michael demanded, eyeing his twin coolly.

"Like I told blondie here, just paying you a little turn around," Rath smirked. "You come poking around our pad, thought I'd return the favour."

"So why show up here looking like me then?" Michael demanded.

"Uh, you might not have noticed this yet, but I always look like you bro," Rath snorted.

"Where did you get my clothes from?" Michael demanded.

"Lonnie and I popped by yesterday, picked up a couple of things," Rath laughed gleefully, clearly getting off a little on fooling them.

"What?" Isabel and Michael both cried out in protest.

"Look, kiddies," Rath sighed, slumping onto the couch again. "I'm only here to mess with ya a bit, not to start anything. Truth is that when Lon an me saw Issy on the subway yesterday it freaked her out a bit. Lonnie thinks it's some kinda destiny crap, and that we should be keeping an eye on you all, in case something goes down and we need to get together."

"Why should we trust you?" Isabel demanded. "You tried to kill my brother and Tess two years ago." Michael knew that she was concerned, but he also knew that she was excited...because it was only a week ago that they had sat on the floor in front of where they were now standing, and talked about contacting the dupes again.

"That's up to you I guess," Rath shrugged confidently. "But I think that if you didn't believe me this conversation would be going a lot less smoothly."

Isabel and Michael didn't say anything, and he found himself wondering one thing: 'where should we start'.

* * *

Michael and Isabel sat facing each other on the floor, their palms pressed together and resting on Michael's knees. "Rath said that the best way to start remembering is to just let the flashes start happening," Isabel reminded him. 

Michael nodded stiffly at that. It had been really hard for him to allow Maria to see the flashes, and he wasn't sure if he was ready to let anyone else in that closely…no matter how much he wanted to know about Antar. He closed his eyes and was hit immediately with flashes of Isabel…_breaking out of the pods…headlights on a deserted desert highway…crying herself to sleep…watching Michael from her table in the lunchroom on the first day of third grade…Kyle Valenti kissing her on the cheek at the eighth grade dance…Alex…_

"Michael I'm not seeing anything," she broke the connection and opened her eyes. He found it hard to meet her gaze. "Are you holding back?"

He sighed and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "Is, I'm sorry…I just," he almost couldn't even say it. "I don't know how to not hold back."

She smiled sadly. "Michael it's never easy to show anyone who we really are," she pointed out. "It's hard for all of us, to open up like that, to trust someone enough. We just have to remind ourselves that what we're trying to learn, trying to remember, is important enough to take the plunge. I have to trust that you'll still be here when you know everything in my mind…trust that knowing is going to be worth it all."

She often left him speechless, but just then he was at a loss for words entirely. He knew her before he knew who he was, and he knew that if there was anyone in the world that he could trust with the truth, it was Isabel. Michael put his hands out again and this time cupped them to her cheeks, letting that mental barrier fall down, and his memories flowed out, mixing with her own. He saw her view of the ship crashing, and knew that she saw his too. _Dream walking Alex…Michael kissing her on the cliff…roses on Alex's casket…Grant's dead body in her arms…two brightly shining suns…the four square symbol…the baby that could have been…the Pod Squad standing in the Granilith chamber…the Dupes in the UFO centre…Liz and Max's wedding…Kyle disappearing into the departures gate…Rath looking back at her from their sofa…two brightly burning suns-_

Michael pulled away in surprise at that and they shared a grin. "Did you see them too?" he asked her, to which she nodded enthusiastically.

"You saw the suns in the sewers too, right?" she asked. He nodded. "Lets try to focus on any memories that may be from Antar and see what else comes to us."

Michael shrugged. "Seems like the thing to do," he agreed. He thought about the two suns, crackling red and orange with bright burning flames…about the swirling streams of light from the stars that flew by, when their ship soared through the night sky…the cool stickiness on his skin when he pushed his way through the goop of his pod…the warm weight of Max and Isabel's hands as they held tight to his…the salty sweetness of Isabel's lips and the sliding fabric of that blue dress…

And then it happened.

_He saw himself in a large room, with towering pillars and a sleek marble floor. He could feel a heaviness on his shoulders, and inexplicably knew that it was the weight of the metals pinned to his shoulders and lapels, decorating his uniform. He held his hand out expectantly, and a pale, soft hand slipped into his grasp. He knew it was her immediately, though he couldn't quite see her face yet. She wore a gown of deep burgundy, the same colour as the sash that ran across his torso. The necklace adorning the pale column of her neck was unlike anything he had seen before, an intricate twining of a metal that shone brighter than gold, and stones that sparkled brighter than diamonds. For some reason it stood out in his memory brighter than anything else…it was how he knew it was Is. She was warm, and bright, and beautiful, and she made his chest burn with an intense feeling that he had not yet experienced in his current life. It was enough to shock him out of the memory…_

Michael was then once again aware of sitting on the floor with Isabel. His hands were clasped tightly to hers, still resting on his knees. He let out a strangled gasp and her eyes caught his, her mouth open breathlessly. "Did you…" he couldn't quite find his voice.

Her hand moved up to her neck, feeling for where the necklace used to be, and Michael knew immediately that she had seen the same thing as him.

"Yeah," she nodded, her voice thick and intoxicating. She leaned forward towards him in excitement, her hand falling away from her neck. Michael felt himself smile and his hands moved unconsciously up from her hands, up to her shoulders, and wrapped around her arms. She grinned in return and pulled him into a hug, her face pressing into the crook of his shoulder and her breath warm against his skin.

"It was amazing Is," he could tell that he was gushing uncharacteristically but he didn't care…they'd wanted to remember for so long now, and this was such a promising start. "I couldn't see your face, but I knew—"

"I knew too," she grinned and pulled away from the hug, her hands settling on his shoulders and fingering where his medals would have been. "I could see your uniform, with the white and the burgundy sash, and the medals." She picked up his large hand in her two smaller ones and ran her fingertips over the ring there. "You wore a ring like you do now, and even though I couldn't see your face I just _knew_, like when I saw you that day in the cafeteria. It was you."

He nodded and was suddenly struck with how amazingly beautiful she was, how the curve of her lips and the long column of her throat were perfectly formed, and achingly familiar. Michael almost frowned when he felt his chest tighten momentarily, a brief flicker of what he felt in that memory. He licked his lips and nodded slowly, his voice feeling thick and heavy.

"Yeah."

And they had barely started yet.

* * *

"I can't believe they caught you," Lonnie screeched at him, tossing an old CD at the wall and watching it smash to the ground and break. Rath snorted at than and slumped down into the couch, knowing that she would blast the CD apart if she had the powers to do so. 

"Shouldn't we be more interested in the fact that they wanted to tips on how to remember life on Antar?" he pointed out. Lonnie kicked viscously at a chair, knocking it over, before collapsing unceremoniously onto the couch beside him.

"Maybe," she replied huffily, in full-on pouting mode now. Rath smiled at that, knowing that she wasn't really mad at him, just frustrated at the situation. It would kill her if their dupes remembered their lives before they did…if Max and the others figured out how to get home before they did…

"It was just Michael and Isabel anyways," he reminded her. "Who cares what they figure out. I got the distinct feeling that Maxie wasn't in on the loop for that one."

Lonnie nodded slowly and gnawed on her fingernails distractedly. "Do you think they remembered anything?"

Rath snorted again. "Probably not," he shook his head. "Issy's eager but Michael's definitely the reject Rath clone. The guys the most close-minded dolt I've ever seen." Lonnie shrugged but smirked slightly. "Besides," he continued, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "I didn't tell them the best way to remember anyways."

She smiled a true smile at that and leaned into his kiss easily. Rath smiled when the flashes started, the familiar scenes of this life and their last life melding together into a kaleidoscope of colours and visions. The only time he felt entirely _right_ was when he was with Lonnie. "Even if they remembered something," he mumbled huskily between kisses. "They're still the reject dupes…they'll never remember what we do."

She ran a hand over his scalp slowly, holding his eyes in a sultry gaze and reached down to unbutton his jeans. Rath paused for a minute and looked at her, _really_ looked. She was almost too beautiful; her perfect lips, the smooth column of her neck… Rath wasn't the kind of man to show his feelings, or admit to weaknesses of any kind. But he loved Lonnie more than anything in any world, and sometimes he worried that she didn't know that. She was a handful, and he knew enough about their lives on Antar to know that she maybe couldn't always be trusted, but it just didn't matter to him. He would die for her, and he lived for those few fleeting moments when she looked at him the same way, and touched him the same way, and showed that she loved him just as much.

That was what assured him that they were the true members of the Royal Four…how he knew that no matter what Michael and Isabel remembered they could never touch what he and Lonnie had. They could try all they wanted, but they would never know what he knew instinctively since he was six years old.

He would know her anywhere. She was his destiny.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Memoria**

**_A/N: Well I'm truly terrivle at updating regularily. The problem is that I know where I want the story to go, but am having trouble writing the middle sections (like this one). I tried to do a few more POVs in this one, and there are quite a lot of flashes in it too, because I think it's time to build the Antar backstory (finally!). I'll try to do part 5 soon. I'm hoping to get a new computer soon, so that will probably inspire me :0)_**

* * *

"What do you mean Rath was in the apartment?" Max's cries seemed to echo off of every wall in the room, and Isabel rubbed her fingertips against her temples warily. "You didn't think to tell me about this when it happened? Yesterday?!"

"Maxwell-"

"No! Michael," Max snarled at him, looking very much like he wanted to take a swing. Liz just sighed, unsure of what else to do. "They could have turned us over to the feds! What were you thinking?"

"It wasn't just him Max," Isabel cut in defensively. "I wanted to wait to tell you too."

"What? Why?"

"Because…" she shifted uncomfortably in her seat on the couch and beside her Michael shook his head subtly. She ignored him. "I've been wanting to remember things about life on Antar for a while now Max—"

"Isabel, I told you that—"

"Yes, Max, I know what you _told_ us," Isabel snapped, jumping to her feet and matching her brother's angry glare. "You said that you wanted nothing to do with Antar, or our destinies, or the dupes…_you_ said that you didn't want to be King anymore. So you gave up your right to say what we can and cannot do in our lives! _I_ want to learn more about where we came from, and why we're here together…and if you don't want to be a part of that then we won't include you in it! You can't cut yourself off and then wonder why we kept you out of the loop!"

Max didn't say anything, but his jaw was set in a way that Michael was all too familiar with, and that Liz knew would be trouble. Isabel held his gaze though, matching his glare head on.

"That doesn't give you the right to put our lives in jeopardy Isabel," Max said quietly, using the same tone that he only used once before in his life, when he told her that under no uncertain terms could she go to school in San Francisco. Isabel recognized the seriousness in his words, but her pride was a little too hurt to accept it. "Rath and Lonnie can't be trusted. We've spent the last couple of years running from dangers like them and the feds, and in one night you could have made all of that worthless. What was to stop them from coming here last night?"

Isabel felt her voice catch in her throat. "I- I don't know," she admitted. "I just…I didn't think they would do it."

"You didn't want to think it Is," Max shook his head, but the cruelness of his voice had faded now, and he was just concerned. "But the fact is that we're no longer safe where we are."

Liz's eyes widened at that. "Oh, no Max," she shook her head pleadingly. "You don't mean…" Max didn't have to answer that; they all knew what he meant.

"Okay look," Michael interrupted the silence and climbed to his feet, coming to stand supportively behind Isabel. "First of all Max, it wasn't just her; we both decided not to mention it right away. And second of all, they've known where we are for a week now Max. They could have done something already if they wanted to. Did you ever stop to consider that maybe they just don't want to get rid of us?"

"No," Max shook his head.

"Max, Rath said that they found us because they saw me on the subway," Isabel told him. "And they followed me because Lonnie thought that is was some kind of destiny thing that they found us. Maybe they don't want to turn us in to anyone!"

"Or maybe they do Isabel," Max threw his hands up in the air angrily. "And maybe they're just thrilled that they managed to fool you long enough to plan something." No one said anything, and Isabel turned her eyes away in guilt. Michael shifted uncomfortably but stood firmly beside her.

Finally, Liz stood up and sighed. "Okay, then," she said sadly. "What next?"

"We move," Max said stoically.

"Max no," Isabel pleaded, shaking her head. "Not again."

"We have to Is," she said. "You know that. We've been in one place far too long anyway…we're gotten too comfortable here."

"But Max…I don't want to leave New York," Isabel told him steadily. Her tone made it clear that not only did she not want to leave the city, but that she wouldn't.

"Is..." Max sighed.

"No, Max," she cut him off, sounding a bit desperate this time. "Look, you were right that I should have said something. I'm sorry that I didn't, and I understand that we need to move out of the apartment. But New York is a big city; I think we can move and still be safe even if we don't leave town. We don't have to stay in Manhattan; we can go somewhere else if we have to. But we're building lives here, jobs and friends at work, and…we're getting somewhere trying to remember our lives on Antar. I'm not ready to leave yet, and I'm not prepared to give it all up. I'm just not."

To their surprise, Max didn't dismiss her outright. He held Isabel's gaze steadily and sighed again…he'd been doing that a lot lately. "I don't think it's safe, and I think we should leave the state," he told them. "But you're right, Is: I decided that I was done being King, so I don't have the right to make this decision for all of us."

"So…"

"So let's put it to a vote," Max finished. "Should we leave New York? I think we should go."

"Stay," Isabel said firmly. They looked at Michael expectantly.

"I'm with Isabel," he replied quickly. She looked up at him gratefully.

"So am I," Liz added quietly. They all looked at her in surprise, and Max with a tiny bit of hurt. "Max, I think Isabel's right. It's a big city, and we don't have to leave it, we just have to move somewhere else." Max nodded stiffly, knowing that he'd been outvoted.

"Maxwell," Michael tried to play peacemaker. "We'll keep an eye out at the new place, and if we think that anyone has followed us we'll leave town."

Max nodded.

"Okay, pack your stuff up. We'll leave tonight."

* * *

_General Rath could not remember when it was that he first fell in love with her, but he could precisely point out the exact day that he realized it. He was just two weeks away from his twenty-fifth birthday when he awoke in his bed in the palace guards' wing. He dressed in his formal uniform, and proceeded down to the ceremonial hall for the soldiers' breakfast to begin the day's festivities. _

_The King was set to retire in one month's time, and the traditional thirty days of tribunal before the Prince's coronation began that day. Rath accepted a crown of red flowers from a servant girl and placed it on his head like the others before entering the hall. His men saluted him as he passed them, their ranks increasing as he neared the head table, and he returned the gesture to his Captains. His army was the best in the star system. Antar's pride and joy. This distinction earned him a place at the head table officially—though his friendship with the crown prince would have placed him near there anyway._

_Rath was only seven years old when he first met the prince. His father had been a Captain in King Abram's army, and his mother was a lady in waiting. Rath, as several of the sons of soldiers did, began training for war when he began school. He met Zan in class and found himself naturally falling into the role of protector of the smaller boy. Zan grew to be strong and capable, but Rath remained his protector always. Rath quickly rose through the ranks in Abrams' army, even after his father's death when he was thirteen. Leadership in the military was judged not only on fighting ability and technical knowledge, but also on power. Rath was a strong fighter, and excelled at military theory, but his true gift was the amount of raw energy that his body was able to generate. From the age of ten he was able to destroy mass formations, and by sixteen he could clear away a mountainside if he concentrated hard enough. He was made General at twenty-three._

_Zan grew to be a quiet man, though he had always been so, even as a child. Quiet and calm in a way that Rath had never been; he was born to rule. Rath was born to defend. They had never believed anything else._

_His oldest friend sat at the head table when Rath approached to the King's right. Rath greeted them formally, bowing to King Abram and Zan, and pressing a kiss to Ava's small, pale hand. She smiled and her cheeks flushed slightly, unused to the formality of the situation. Ava was not raised to be a queen, which oddly enough made Rath respect her. He would follow them to the ends of the earth, loyal soldier that he was, and would one day lay his life down for theirs. Willingly._

_He kissed Queen Myra as well, and then took a seat next to the Prime Minister, leaving an empty seat between him and the Queen. She was late again, he noted with a smile._

_As he thought it the room seemed to come to life. She had that effect on people. She walked into the hall gracefully, her shoes clicking on the marble floors. The rows upon rows of soldiers rose to greet her, a wave of scarlet and gold, as was customary with any member of the Royal family. Rath got to his feet as well, perhaps too quickly from the smirk the Prime Minister shot him, and watched her approach._

_She was elegant and poised, her long hair and flowing gown making her appear as if a work of art came to life. Her smile was warm enough, one of politeness as she nodded to his Captains and higher-ranking Lieutenants. The polite smile melted though, into one so genuine that she shone like the gold of her hair, when she reached the head table and saw those she loved. She curtsied to her brother and father, winked at Ava, and kissed her mother's cheek. Beside Ava the Head of Church bowed to her. "Lord Koran," she acknowledged him. Then, "Prime Minister," Lord Boros bowed as well and then took his seat once more, eager to return to his breakfast._

_Rath remained standing though, until his Princess reached the empty seat between him and the Queen. She held her hand for him to grasp, which he did. He pressed a kiss to it, as he had to Ava's, however his grip on her hand lingered as he was momentarily lost in her eyes…endless pools of warmth that destroyed her cool façade. "Good morning General," she greeted, holding both his gaze and his hand confidently. He found his lips quirking into a slight smile, though he willed them not to. "I hope you slept well."_

_Rath nodded, dropping her hand and holding her chair out for her. "Always, your Highness," he replied. She looked amused and accepted his assistance. He took his seat beside her and took a sip of wine from the goblet in front of him. A lady in waiting brought a plate of food for the Princess and set it in front of her. Rath watched her silently out of the corner of his eye, his heart warming as she and the girl, Lyra, launched into an immediate conversation about the girl's younger brother. _

_"Tell me, General," the Prime Minister began, tearing Rath's attention away from her. "Will your men be doing anything for tonight's welcome ceremony?"_

_"Yes sir," Rath nodded. "They will be assisting in the processional this afternoon in the Capital City, and my Captains will be joining us at the ball tonight."_

_"Ah, very good," Boros smiled delightedly. He was a robust, older gentleman, and always enjoyed a good party._

_The King chose that moment to climb to his feet, prepared to address the assembled soldiers. "My fine gentlemen," Abram's voice carried strong and sturdy. "Thank-you all for dining with us this morning. As you know, today marks the first day of the Coronation Tribunal. This afternoon we greet the governing rulers of our four neighbouring planets, and we will celebrate with a formal procession and a ball. I trust that you will all do your utmost to assist in making their stay enjoyable."_

_Rath tried to pay attention to the rest of the flowery prose that the King spoke, but he soon grew distracted by one of his Corporals. A young man at one of the middle tables, Corporal Khivar, was not listening to the King's address. He was staring—with unnerving intensity—at the beautiful girl to Rath's right. Rath frowned. It wasn't unusual for her to draw stares; she was breathtaking, and had many admirers. It was, however, the look on Khivar's face that made Rath uncomfortable. He looked…terrifying, and Rath could swear that he could sense a crackle of power, the kind put out by abilities as powerful as his own._

_It was no secret that a group of rebels were operating behind the scenes on Antar, hoping to see the end of the House of Zor. Rath made a mental note to have one of his more trustworthy Captains to look into Khivar._

_Beside him the Princess ran a long, polished finger idly over the rim of her wine goblet as she listened to her father—her mind no doubt on something much more interesting (perhaps shinier?) than a military breakfast. Rath found himself watching the movement of her fingers, hypnotized by their slow rhythm._

_He snapped back to attention though when Boros suddenly clapped him on the shoulder. "What?" he asked stupidly, knowing that he had missed whatever it was that the man had said. Boros chuckled._

_"I'll see you tonight my boy," he patted him again before leaving. Rath noticed now that several others had stood to leave, including the King and Queen, Lord Koran, and about half of his shoulders. She looked at him curiously._

_"Is everything okay?" she inquired. "You're acting very strange." Rath shook his head._

_"My apologies," he assured her. "I'm fine."_

_A young page hurried over to them and bowed deeply. "Your Highness," he squeaked out nervously, his eyes drawn to hers adoringly. "Your father requests your presence in his chambers immediately."_

_She frowned but nodded and the boy ran off. Rath jumped to his feet, as was proper, and held his arm out to her. "Shall I escort you?" he inquired politely…and perhaps a little eagerly._

_She smiled. "Are you finished dining?"_

_"Yes."_

_She took his arm then and allowed him to lead her out of the hall. They turned into a long hallway adorned with elaborate tapestries and began the walk. "We needent hurry," she told him frankly. "I know what it is that he wishes to speak about, and I must admit that I am not eager to do so."_

_"Really?" Rath asked, not terribly surprised at her honesty and, truthfully, slightly curious. She had always been quite open with him, and so he trusted her implicitly._

_"My father wishes for me to choose a husband," she said it so steadily that one would assume that she was undisturbed by the fact, though if you knew her well enough, as Rath did, you could detect the panic in her movements. "My brother is married, and will soon be King," she went on. "And they worry that without a strong alliance the rebels will be able to gain more ground. He is hoping that I will find a match within the visiting delegations, and complete the Royal Four."_

_Rath nodded slowly, because he suddenly found himself feeling very ill. His step faltered slightly, but he was sure that she hadn't noticed. "Larek?" Rath asked her, referring to their long-time friend, and the crown Prince of one of the neighbouring planets._

_"I believe so," she stopped suddenly and turned to him, her large eyes pleading. "May I be honest with you Rath?"_

_He felt the heart in his chest thump wildly. "Always," he mumbled, nodding encouragingly._

_"Larek is kind and noble," she said. "And he will make a good King and husband one day…but I never saw him as anything besides a member of my own family…a cousin. Truth be told, I always supposed that I would eventually marry someone in our Army."_

_That made sense. She was the eldest child in the Royal family, but as tradition dictated, she was not able to rule because she was female. But she was of royal blood, so while her brother would become King and head of government on Antar, she would become the head of Antar's prized military after her brother's coronation. Most thought that her husband would be someone from Antar's military, though there was no rule to specify that._

_"Vilandra," Rath squeezed her hand and held her gaze reassuringly. "Zan wishes to see progress for Antar, be assured of that. He will not have you marry a man you did not want to; your happiness means more to him."_

_She smiled and held his gaze for another moment. Once again Rath felt the thumping in his chest increase, and this time he longed to reach out and touch the soft skin of her collarbone._

"Whoa!" Michael Guerin sat up abruptly in his bed in Brooklyn, their new place, gasping for breath and pushing his sweat soaked hair from his eyes. He'd dreamed of Antar, so clear that he knew that it was a memory of him…and of Isabel. "Whoa."

* * *

Isabel usually had a policy of not spying on Michael's dreams….ever since he told her not to. And she stuck to that policy…until he told her that he'd dreamt of Antar. Somehow she'd managed to convince him to let her try tonight. She wanted to see it too.

Michael had been reluctant at first, never liking the idea of someone in his head. She reminded him that it wasn't really invading his mind if they were just trying to remember what had already happened. She also promised not to peek at any of his other dreams.

So he gave into her, as he always did in the end. And when he went to bed that night she forced herself to wait one full hour until he fell into a deep enough sleep to dream. The first try was…disturbing. Isabel pulled out quickly when she realized that he was _not_ dreaming of Antar. To the best of her knowledge, she'd never danced in a burlesque house with Maria, Tess, and Courtney on Antar.

She waited another hour, had a cup of tea, and tried again. This time there was success. Isabel opened her eyes to find herself standing in a ballroom, full of people. Soldiers dressed in scarlet and gold lined the outside of the dance floor, while a steady stream of people came in through a large set of French doors. She looked down at her pyjamas, noting the contrast between her attire and the obviously formal event. None of the guests seemed to notice her. Even if they could have seen her they wouldn't have noticed, because everyone's attention was drawn to a magnificent set of doors. Or rather, to the elegantly dressed couple standing between them.

Isabel felt her breath catch in her throat then as she gazed at them, because she knew, deep down, exactly whom they were. King Abram and his wife Myra paused in the doorway while the room bowed in welcome. Isabel didn't bow (there was no need), because she was frozen on the spot, staring longingly at her parents. She missed the Evans's and being this close to her Antarian parents was painful, knowing that she didn't remember them, and couldn't speak to them.

More people were lining up behind her parents, and so Isabel pushed her way closer to the front of the crowd to get a better look. She could see Max and Tess – or rather, Zan and Ava—follow behind the King and Queen. Zan wore a laurel wreath on his head, and Isabel realized that this was the ball that Michael's earlier dream had mentioned. The crowd bowed to Zan, and again she didn't copy the motion, knowing that they couldn't see her. Several strangers proceeded in after Zan, people she didn't recognize, but clearly people of some significance on this planet.

Isabel watched the processional with mild interest, her eyes taking in everything around her. The opulent dresses, plush décor, finely cut suits, and the beautifully coloured uniforms on the soldiers. It was such an array of amazing colour that she felt transfixed; she felt as if she had never seen anything quite like it before. Blues the colour of water, and sky, and sapphires, all melded together. Reds so deep they seemed to be alive. Golds that sparkled and danced in the light, as if they were moving; as if a colour could move. Isabel knew that she wasn't crazy, that her eyes weren't deceived; this was Antar. It was breathtaking.

Michael hadn't mentioned that.

The thought of Michael caused her to look around curiously. If this was his dream he had to be around somewhere. She began weaving her way through the people again, getting closer and closer to the raised platform at the front of the room, where several throne chairs sat. Her brother stood talking to a military man, laughing slightly at something. Isabel could only see him from the back, but she knew who it was. He had many of the same mannerisms, wore a ring on his pointer finger, but the hair, usually longer, was cut short in a trademark style that screamed army. Max looked good; confident and, well, happy. He looked like a King. Isabel smiled at them and walked closer, coming around beside them so she could see Michael clearly. He looked strong, and noble, and handsome. He looked like a warrior, like a leader, and her heart ached a bit for Michael; for the boy that was supposed to be a powerful soldier, but knew so much pain in his life. It didn't seem fair.

She wanted to touch them, to talk to them, but she knew that this wasn't a regular dream. It was a memory, and they didn't even know that she was there.

"…she's worried Zan," Rath was saying now, his face serious. Zan nodded in understanding.

"The growing unrest amongst the people is frightening my father," Zan said. "He fears a rebellion against the crown, and hopes to reassure the people by completing the Royal Four. He's terrified that if Vilandra doesn't select a husband soon, the faith in the Royal Four will be shaken."

"And you?" Rath frowned.

"I have faith in my sister," Zan smiled confidently. "She'll do what is best for Antar. And I have faith in our army; you and your men will be able to keep the rebels under control. I know it…just as I know that Vilandra can always be counted on to make a fashionable entrance."

Rath quirked an eyebrow at that, and then both him and Isabel followed Zan's gaze to the entrance doors. The crowd bowed once more, and several of the soldiers in attendance grinned in anticipation, as Vilandra came into the room. Isabel watched transfixed, as the past version of her seemed to glide across the room. Her dress was a cream colour that sparkled as if it were lined with diamonds; having never seen a colour quite like it before, Isabel was barely able to believe what she was seeing. The fabric seemed to be alive though, seemed to move and breathe as much as all of the beings around her, and she knew that it was something truly special, truly alien. Something that she'd never seen in her life on Earth.

"Whoa," she muttered.

* * *

_Vilandra loved a ball. All of the beautiful people, wearing beautiful dresses, and beautiful jewels…it was everything a good little princess dreamed about. Or so she'd always been raised to think. 'That's not entirely true,' she mentally chastised herself. She was raised with all of the opportunity that could be given to a girl in her position: a solid education, opportunity to travel, friends, a loving family, and a chance to make a difference in Antar's army. _

_The soldiers and other guests gazed at her adoringly, taking in the beauty of her dress, the shine from her jewels, their mere proximity to her making them feel special. That is what made Vilandra question her life. She was given everything a girl in her position could have been given, and yet she always felt that it was all a farce – that her whole life was a farce. They'd given her an army, filled her head with facts and figures, just to hide the terrible truth about her. That she would do something truly good for her people because she would be married off. She was intelligent, and powerful, and knowledgeable…and her great contribution to Antar would be to be a bride. Her brother got to be a King, to rule, to make decisions, to improve lives and change history…and she got to be traded off for peace of mind. She never thought that it was fair._

_But she still looked upon that ball with hope; she had friends there that she longed to see, and soldiers to impress. Vilandra always supposed that if she must be used as merely decorative, at least she could ensure that she was beloved by their people. Maybe it would make her feel as if she made a difference; maybe to them she did._

_Some of the Captains greeted her more warmly than the others. Vilandra's favourites were always in the army; they were her men, and she tried very hard to earn their respect. They recognized that, and many of them were loyal to her. "Captain Ander," she greeted a middle-aged Captain with a genuine smile and a kiss to his cheek. "How are you? Is your lovely wife around tonight?"_

_"Your Highness," he returned the smile and took her hand in his. "You look lovely. My wife and I are both well, I thank-you. She is currently amusing herself with some of my men I'm afraid." He winked. "She always did like those young boys." Vilandra laughed at that. Captain Ander was the father of one of her ladies in waiting, Lyra. She'd know him and his wife since she was a child, and he'd been the first Captain to begin her briefing lessons on the army practices when she was sixteen._

_"Best go make sure that she keeps out of trouble then," she teased him. He nodded and excused himself. Vilandra looked up and saw her brother and the General watching her. They noticed her gaze and nodded at her so she made her way over to them._

_Vilandra smiled at them once she'd reached them. Zan smiled at her in return, the small, special smile that he used for her only. She held Rath's gaze steadily and willed herself not to admire him. His uniform was incredibly appealing, and she worried sometimes that he knew that she thought it. He smirked at her slightly, but they all knew that it was not out of distain. Zan, and Larek, and Rath (and lately Ava) were the only people that knew the real her; who knew that she longed to be more than just a beautiful princess, and who knew that she _was_ more than just a beautiful princess. _

_"You're late Princess," Rath said with a good-natured smirk. Vilandra shrugged; it was the prerogative of a spoiled rich girl to be late to the big party. Zan laughed._

_"Lonnie would worry everyone if she showed up on time to one of these things," he pointed out. "But I'm glad you're here Lon; I really want to dance with my wife, but don't want to watch this one sulk over here by himself."_

_"I don't sulk," Rath muttered…a little sulkily. Zan smiled, clapped him on the shoulder, and walked away, making a beeline for his new wife. Ava smiled warmly at him as he approached. "I…glower…"_

_"You look nice," Vilandra admitted, eyeing his decorated uniform. She had a bit of a thing for the men in their uniforms, and Rath was…_

_"You're beautiful," he said bluntly, as was his style. It made her smile._

_"Thank-you," she curtsied slightly, properly. Her father would be so proud. He held her gaze and then flagged down a passing waiter, grabbing two flutes of champagne and handed one to her. She took it with a small nod and sipped delicately._

_"Have you been introduced to the visiting Princes yet?" Rath asked her. His voice was casually disinterested, and he allowed his gaze to flick between hers and the rest of the room, but she didn't miss the way his hand tightened around the stem of his glass, the knuckles turning white._

_"Yes," she confirmed, tasting the bubbles on her tongue. "Prince Willam from Onxon was nice. He was able to hold a conversation at any rate, which is more than can be said for Turak, the Zetan King." _

_Rath nodded. "I met with Turak this afternoon," he informed her. "About the plans for an inter-world defence force. He seemed to think that not slaughtering Antar's army is the way to the Antarian Princess's heart." She chuckled and rolled her eyes. _

_"It's not his fault," she said diplomatically. "He was raised to believe that he deserved to get everything that he wants because of a birth right. In most cases he would be right."_

_"He doesn't get you though," Rath said coolly, his eyes locked on the Zetan King. Turak returned his glare, jealously. "You're Princess of _Antar_, and so Zeta and its King have no claim to you." Rath looked at her then, his gaze strong and unwavering, and reassuring. "And you deserve to marry someone who knows that you're more than just a beautiful girl, in a beautiful dress, with the galaxy's strongest army in her control."_

_Lonnie stared back to him, her grip on her glass loosening until she felt it start to slip from her grasp. Rath grabbed it easily, and set it aside, never breaking his gaze._

_"Dance with me?" she found herself saying, hoping he would agree. She wouldn't normally dare ask something like that, it wasn't terribly proper, but she couldn't help it. She hoped he didn't mind. He didn't reply, just set his glass down and held his arm out to her. She took it and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. Several of the guests watched them but Vilandra ignored them all._

_Rath didn't enjoy a ball, and he took very little pleasure from dancing. But dancing with Vilandra was something else entirely. Because Vilandra was something else entirely: something more than the other women that he knew, daughters and wives of noblemen. She was clever, and witty, and determined, and warm…and he had never, ever, in the eighteen years that he'd known her, grown tired of her, of anything about her. But the real reason, the reason that he never lied to her, and could tease her, and just kept dancing with her was the way she treated him: when she looked at him she saw more than a warier, when she listened to him she heard more than just words. And when she smiled at him time just stopped. _

_She took a lot of pleasure from dancing, especially from dancing with Rath. His hand on her back gave her goose bumps, and her pulse felt a bit quicker. She wasn't used to feeling that way around men; usually she was cool and collected, and she was always, always in control of the situation. Rath was different. He was the only person, besides Zan and Larek, with whom she felt that she didn't need to hide herself. He knew the real her, and he cared for her anyways…and that made him special. That made _them_ special._

_The music stopped and they continued to dance, continued to gaze at each other. The guests around them watched, and up on the raised platform Abram, Myra, Zan, Ava, and Larek watched too. They all knew then._

* * *

His lips had been soft, and warm, and strong. That was the first thing that Isabel remembered when she woke up the next morning. She remembered kissing him, Michael. No…_Rath_.

Isabel sat up in her bed slowly. It had been the strangest dreamwalk ever, because not only was it a memory, but she also didn't wake up right after. The sun shone in through her blinds in streams, reminding her that the night was over and passed. She felt rested and as she pressed her fingertips to her lips she saw flashes of a ballroom, a shining dress, and his eyes.

She wasn't sure what to think of it, really.

Michael watched from the couch in their new living room while she cooked breakfast with her brother. Max said something to her with a grin, which made her gasp in pretend shock and swat her brother with a spatula. Michael smiled.

The couch dipped down beside him and Liz sat, holding a mug of coffee out with a sweet smile. He nodded in thanks, his attention one again drawn to the kitchen where Max chuckled at something his sister had said. "It's nice to see them getting along again," Liz noted, almost sadly, sipping her own coffee. "It's been a while."

"Yeah," he nodded slightly, staring into his drink. He could feel Liz watching him, all doe eyes and concern. "What?"

"Are you okay, Michael?" she asked. "Did something happen?"

"No," Michael took another sip. "I mean, yes I'm fine; and no, nothing happened." Liz continued to stare, obviously not believing the lie.

"Michael," she raised an eyebrow teasingly. He huffed.

"I just—I had a dream," he said, looking over at Isabel again. Liz followed his gaze.

"About Isabel?" she asked.

"Sort of."

"Oh my God, Michael," she grabbed his arm excitedly, her eyes widening. He shook her hand off, but she was used to his moodiness by this point, and just ignored it. "Was is about Antar?"

"It was a memory," he confirmed softly. In the kitchen Isabel swung her long curtain of blonde hair over her shoulder, and he saw a quick flash of her in a ball gown, spinning. She was really very lovely—

"What…what did you remember?" Liz's voice grounded him. She asked the question so timidly that he didn't have the heart to lie. Didn't have it in him to be cruel. He'd always seen Liz as a sort of timid animal, and while that annoyed him, the soldier in him knew now that his job was to protect people like her. He couldn't willingly hurt her, even if he knew that she would get over it.

"There was a party," he answered quietly, for some reason not wanting Max and Isabel to hear, even though she'd already seen the dream. "For Zan's—for _Max_'s—coronation."

"Coronation?" she looked surprised. Michael held her gaze and couldn't help but tell her more; he wanted to tell someone. How he'd felt needed to be told…but he didn't know for sure that Liz was the one that should be told everything.

"Their father was stepping down and Zan was to become king," he explained. "There was a ball, and the four of us were there; me, or him, and Zan, and Ava, and—"

"Vilandra?" she finished breathily, eyes still wide.

"Yeah," Michael nodded. "We got engaged at that party."

"What was everyone like?" Liz inquired. "I mean…were you all still _you_?"

"Sort of," Michael thought about it. "Not really the surface stuff—I mean, we all looked a bit different—but where it really mattered, yeah. We were pretty much the same. I remembered who they were, and ho much I—or _he_—cared about them. That part was the same."

"Oh," she nodded pensively. "That's…that's great Michael. I'm glad that you're starting to remember things. I know how much it means to you and Isabel."

"Yeah," he stared into his coffee again. He remembered how much Zan loved his planet and his people, and Michael knew that Max still felt that love, deep down. It was just a matter of time until Max started wanting to remember too. He didn't want to tell Liz that though, she probably already knew it on some level.

His coffee was only lukewarm now, but he drank it anyways.

* * *

Max Evans had been having a bit of trouble admitting to his wife that he was curious; curious about his first life, his first planet…his first wife. He loved Liz more than anything, he really did, but he was also very aware that there was a time that he'd loved someone else, and somewhere else, that much. He knew that Liz was his soul mate, but he couldn't just forget Tess—or Ava—or whatever she was to him. He'd thought about it sometimes, since Tess left for Antar; but ever since the dupes came back, and Michael and Isabel started remembering things, he'd been thinking about it more.

Now he was in New York, and found himself wandering the city, searching for something he couldn't quite place. There was a place he liked to go sometimes, to think, and to imagine the ways things could have been. It was pretty high up though, and he wasn't a fan of heights. He assumed that had something to do with the crash.

The elevator ride up was uncomfortable for him; he'd made the ride a few times already, but he still got a little jittery. Each time he felt the fear he reminded himself of the first time he rode up, with her, before things went so awful. He could still feel her hand on his arm, and hear her voice calming him. It worked again.

The car reached the observation deck and Max filed out with all of the other tourists. They rushed out, tourists excited to be on the Empire State Building, but he approached the edge carefully, not actually concerned about falling, but still a little shaky. The city loomed out beneath him, around him, like a vast sea of concrete and light. There were millions of people, going about their daily lives, at his feet.

"A King," Tess's voice echoed in his memory. He could almost see the light gold of her hair in the corner of his eye, smell the sweetness of her skin once again. Sometimes he missed her so much…when he could forget what she'd done that is. She'd understood him though, and maybe that was what he missed. She knew the things about him that he didn't like to own up to, to admit out loud: that maybe he was meant for greater things than his life on Earth, that maybe his destiny was to be more than being the love of Liz Parker's life.

That thought made him frown. He loved his wife, more than anything…he was sure of it. 'I don't want to think about her anymore,' he thought to himself decidedly. 'She's gone now, and that life is just a memory.'

Having convinced himself, he turned away from the city splayed out below him, and began to weave his way through the crowd of people back towards the elevator. He was the first one waiting to go back down, and pressed the summon button.

The doors opened and a crowd of people flooded out. Max bumped rather roughly into one of the people getting off and reached out to steady himself. And suddenly the world seemed to stop turning for a moment.

Her perfectly shaped pink lips opened in shock, and her eyes, brilliantly blue, and crystal clear, widened.

"Tess," he gasped, just as she breathily whispered: "Zan."

A moment passed where he forgot how to breathe, forgot how move. Did remembering her here with him bring her into existence? He dismissed that thought immediately, knowing it was stupid, and surprised that he could still think so absurdly while he couldn't yet control his body.

His eyes immediately moved to her hair, searching for the soft blonde curls that he remembered. They were there, shining in the sunlight, just as he remembered. Everything about her was exactly as he remembered.

Except for the nose ring.

Then he knew decidedly: it wasn't Tess.

It was Ava.

* * *

Liz Parker didn't love waiting tables these days. Well, to be honest, she'd never really loved waiting them at all, but lately the thrill had gone out of it completely. She was working at a restaurant a couple of blocks from their new place in Brooklyn now. The tips weren't as good as at the bar, but she hated the idea of a commute to work, so she'd left her job there. Now she was a waitress…again.

On the particularly long days, like that day, she would spend her break imagining what her life would have been like. What if she'd never found out about Max's secret? Would she still be with him? She hoped so, but deep down she knew that the secret would have come up anyways. Otherwise, she'd be rotting right now, six feet under the New Mexico soil with a bullet hole in her gut. No, it was probably best for both of them that she'd learned the secret.

But she did daydream about what her life would be like right now if they had been allowed to live their lives out after high school without having to run constantly. She would be in college right now, studying to become a scientist. She'd spend her days running experiments and learning about the universe, and she'd spend her nights with Max. Her and Maria would have their Dawson's Creek nights every week and she'd help her friend through whatever drama Michael had caused that week. Isabel and Jesse would call every Sunday from Boston, to check in and share stories. And she would go with Kyle to see Maria and the Kit Shickers play, and think fondly of Alex being there with them.

"Just a dream," she sighed to herself, setting her coffee mug down at the dishwasher station. She was married to Max now, so that part at least came true. And she knew that Maria and Kyle were out there now, getting a real shot at living a normal life, which was better than none of them getting to. Max and Isabel and Michael were safe, and together, and she was with them…which is what really mattered to her. She went back out onto the floor, resolving to think no more about it for that day.

Her break was over anyways.

* * *

_"Where are we going?" Zan asked curiously, following his father's long strides down the hall in the direction of the temple. He held Ava's hand in his, and she hurried along beside him, just as curious. _

_King Abram and Myra stopped and turned around, waiting until Vilandra and Rath fell into step beside Zan and Ava before speaking. "We bring you to the temple now," Abram told them all. "You must learn about the holy symbol. It is vital that you all know of it."_

_"The Granolith?" Rath asked in shock. "It is in there?"_

_"I thought that the Granolith was lost in the last wars?" Vilandra gasped, eyes wide. _

_"It was retrieved and then hidden," Abram told them. "To safeguard it from the rebels."_

_"Do the other rulers know of this?" Zan asked him. The King shook his head. _

_"No, and they will not know. We have other plans for the Granolith."_

_"But the Granolith is a religious relic," Zan protested angrily. "We have no right to keep this hidden from them. They should know of its existence; the church would demand it!"_

_"The church will be of no use to us if the rebels can obtain the Granolith," Abram hissed out, somehow managing to sound like he was shouting though he wasn't. He looked around warily. "It is not safe to speak of this here."_

_"Come children," Myra said to them much more gently, placing her hand on Ava's shoulder and leading them towards the temple. They followed silently, warily. Vilandra slipped her arm through Rath's and walked with him now._

_Abram led them into the temple…and then through the temple, into the priest's office. They followed him through the office, to the furthest wall, where Abram pushed aside a large hanging tapestry, and revealed a hidden door. They all followed curiously, and Rath smirked slightly at the excitement. He loved an adventure._

_The door hid a stone staircase, winding down into the ground. Abram gestured down the stairs and Zan nodded, taking the lead now. Down and down they climbed, at least three stories, until they reached an anti-chamber. They passed through one final door and there it was, looming up in front of them: a large, shining, black crystal. The Granolith._

_Ava gasped and stuttered out a prayer at the religious relic. Zan and Vilandra stared in shock at the Granolith, and Rath alone managed to control his reaction. Inside he was in awe though._

_"It was taken by an order of the church during the last wars," Abram began. "And it was hidden away here, to keep it safe. The Granolith is not merely a religious relic in our system; it is a priceless power source. Our Theologists have been studying the scientific properties of the Granolith for some time now, and they have found that if the raw energy can be harnessed, the relic may be used for intersystem travel."_

_"But why?" Zan asked curiously. "We already have the technology for intersystem travel. All of our systems' planets have that capability."_

_"Yes," Myra smiled mysteriously. "_We_ do." They all looked confused at that. _

_"There is a growing danger on our planet," Abram began to the rapt audience. "And we fear that, despite our best efforts to the contrary, the rebel forces will continue to gain ground. We hope that they never manage to affect our governing, or our military, but we have been collaborating to build a secondary defence, in case our worse fears become reality."_

_"Collaborating with who?" Vilandra asked suspiciously._

_"With scientists," Myra's reply was steady, and her voice was warm and comforting._

_"It is not yet time to tell you all of the plan," Abram told them all. Zan's jaw visibly stiffened at that, but his respect for his father prevented him from protesting in front of the others. Vilandra looked livid, for reasons that Rath knew very well: she hated being kept in the dark, as if she wasn't able to handle knowing the truth. "But you must know that the Granolith is essential…and you must know how to use it."_

_"And that is why we are here now?" Rath queried. "To learn how to use it?"_

_"Yes," Abram nodded to him. "You will learn the rest in due time."_

_They remained silent for a moment, absorbing the new information. "You'd best show us then," Zan replied._

* * *

"But if Tess already used the Granolith's one-way trip home," Isabel gnawed on a fingernail as she paced back and forth across the living room. Michael watched her from the couch, half amused, half puzzled. "Maybe that's all it can do for us. Didn't they say that it was good only for the one trip?"

"We don't know enough about it Is," Michael pointed out with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "It could have a million trips left, or it could just be a great big paperweight. We'll have to wait until we remember more."

"We need to know how to use it," she sighed, agreeing with him. "You're right, I know you're right." She flopped down beside him on the couch. "It's just so frustrating!"

He reached out and patted her knee sympathetically, more to annoy her than anything else. She rolled her eyes and elbowed him playfully. That made him laugh.

"We'll get there," he promised her. "Eventually, we'll remember it." She nodded thoughtfully.

"I wonder if they remember?" she said. "Rath, Lonnie, and Ava. Do you think they remember more? Do they know how it works?"

"Well they wanted it," he pointed out. "When Max and Tess came out here…they wanted the Granolith. He didn't tell them. I'm thinking they know how to use it to get home."

"So I guess we'd better not tell them then," she concluded. "In case it's still active."

"Nope," he sighed. "Guess not."

They sat in silence for at least three minutes, the sound of the kitchen clock ticking the only noise in the room. Finally Isabel sighed and looked down at her knees. "Michael?" she asked.

"Yes, Isabel?"

"Are we ever going to talk about—"

"No, Isabel," he shook his head and then stood up, walking into the kitchen. She sighed again and leaned back into the couch. He dug around in the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of Snapple. She accepted her bottle with a raised eyebrow and he sat back down beside her.

"Really?" she cried out, a little comically, and startled him. "We're just gonna what? Pretend that we didn't remember anything?"

"Yeah?"

She let out a strangled scream and climbed to her feet, barely resisting the urge to stomp around and throw a fit. Instead she started pacing again.

"Well what do you expect Isabel?" he sighed now.

"I don't know Michael," she snapped. "I just thought we could talk about it. You know? At least acknowledge that we remember the same things."

"We already know that we both do," he pointed out.

"Yeah, but…" she sighed and stopped pacing, turning to face him now. "It's a big deal Michael. Please tell me that you realize that."

"Of course I do," he replied testily, offended that she would suggest otherwise. She continued to stare at him expectantly. "What?! What do you want me to say? I saw the same thing as you did in the dreams Is!"

"You just don't care then?" she shrugged, trying to hide how hurt she was.

"That's not—"

"Well that's fine then, because I don't care either!" she was rambling now, but it was coming out a little shakier and a lot less angry than she'd intended. He felt like he'd been punched in the gut.

"I didn't say that I didn't care—"

"I mean who cares that we're actually able to remember these parts of our lives, right? It's not as if we've been trying to remember what happened," she spat out sarcastically. "And it's certainly not as if we've remembered anything huge that directly affected both of us!"

"Isabel, stop it," he said seriously. "You know that's not what I meant."

"You don't want to talk about it!" she cried out, not bothering to hide the hurt now. "So you must just not care."

"Stop putting words in my mouth," he cried back, squeezing the Snapple bottle hard now. His other hand dug into the couch cushions angrily.

"Michael this is about more than just a past that we're trying to piece together," she actually cried now. Her eyes welled up and her hands shook a bit, but it was probably more out of frustration and anger than out of sorrow. "It's about _us_, our family, maybe our futures!"

"I know that Isabel!"

"It matters!"

"I know that too!" he tried to not notice that she had tears tracking down her cheeks. She was even beautiful when she cried.

"Then why can't we—"

"Why can't we what is?" he yelled back now, jumping to his feet in front of her. She looked up in surprise at him there, but continued to look angry. Her eyes held his angrily, wide and teary, and her lip quivered slightly. She didn't sob though, and she didn't tear her gaze away. She was tough that way. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself a bit. "I don't want to deal with this right now, okay? Not yet."

"But I _need_ to Michael," she told him desperately, her voice cracking. "I need to know more. I need to know why she –why _I_—did that! Why I betrayed everyone! I remember how she felt about Zan, how much she cared about him. I remember that she loved you—or him—more than anyone in the world! And I look at you now and I just can't imagine how she could ever do that! I just don't understand it…and I _need_ to know why! I have to know what kind of person I am!" She _was_ crying now and his heart broke, as it always did when she was upset. Especially because he knew that he could have prevented it.

"Isabel," his voice took on a comforting tone that felt both familiar and new to him. His hands reached up and grabbed her shoulders gently, trying to make her focus on him. She looked up at him but didn't stop crying, so he moved his hands to cup her cheeks. "I don't know why she did what she did, but she must have had a reason. Okay? We'll remember it eventually; we just have to give it a little time. I promise. And for the record, I look at you and I remember _exactly_ what he felt for her. He loved her and he trusted her, and I get the feeling that those are two things he didn't feel for a lot of people. There must have been a good reason that he had that much faith in her. You have to believe that too, okay? Okay? Isabel?"

She nodded and gave him a weak smile, wordlessly moving in to hug him tight. It surprised him a bit and he chuckled slightly, hugging her back tightly. He stroked her hair and could feel her breath warm against his cheek. The air around them seemed to change, to _charge_. Isabel sighed. "I'm sorry I yelled at you," he heard her whisper and then pressed a kiss to his cheek.

He saw the flash then.

…_His arm hurt, was bleeding a bit from the shoulder, and he felt a bit beat-up, but he only had eyes for her. She stood very close to him and smiled sweetly. Her hand moved up to run through his hair, and down his cheek tenderly. He leaned into her touch, craving it. Craving her…_

She must have heard his gasp, because she pulled back slightly and looked up at him in concern. "What?"

Michael shook his head and forced a smile. "Nothing," he lied, deciding that they'd had enough remembering for one day. There was something to be said for living life in the present. He stroked her hair once more and then stepped away. "You wanna watch a movie?"

Isabel smiled. "Sure," she said. He gave her a shy grin and hurried into the kitchen to make them some popcorn. Isabel watched him with a small smile.

She decided then to tell him later about _her_ flash. They'd had enough for one day.

TBC…


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Unknown**

A/N: It's been many moons since I've updates, but I have been working on the story, though not that diligently. I haven't been able to get the chapter edit thingy to recognize the lines I'm trying to put in the story so you'll just see a -- to seperate sections. Sorry! If anyone knows how to correct it let me know! Another chapter to go up today as well :0)

--

_It must have been such a burden, he'd always thought, to go through life with a face like hers. To always be watched, and adored, for something merely physical that she could not control; to be so beautiful that you were loved and worshiped by your people. How vexing it must have been for her--indeed he knew exactly how vexing-- to be a beautiful decoration first and a person second. Her sharp mind, her brave soul, her warm heart always a secondary consideration to the world around her. He knew of her frustration, the times she stood in a room and addressed hundreds who did not hear a word because they were more interested in the gleam of her eyes, the rosy hue of her cheeks, or the shine of her hair. She spent many years of screaming aloud to deaf ears; yearning to be heard by those who viewed her as merely a beautiful distraction. She could not rule, but she was lovely, so she was indulged; she was let to speak, and work, and learn because none could find it within themselves to turn her down. But none regarded her words, or her views, or her ideas as serious. They tolerated her idiosyncrasies, things such as interests and hobbies, because they loved the notion of a beautiful princess, proud and loyal and a model for all._

_He knew more of her. He knew that she had dreams and desires beyond that of the physical and material natures. She could not rule a government, but she would rule her army as more than a beautiful figure head. She was determined to be more than just an overindulged child, and he was determined to have his men follow her rule. Because she was Vilandra; his princess, his betrothed, and his soul mate-- in this and all other lives-- and he loved her more dearly than even he could fathom. He would do so always, no force in the worlds could stop it._

_He knew that he'd been naive in the past, thinking her perfectly good, and pure--without faults of any kind. Their wedding date was set, the event planned meticulously, and he remained willfully blind to any indication that she may in fact be as naturally flawed a creature as he. Rath was not a stupid man, but she was one of the only forces that could melt his tough exterior. Her smile broke his frowns, and her touch stilled his soul, and her words--her voice lithe and melodic-- soothed his fears, eased his troubles, and filled the empty places inside of him. He'd spent several of the years of his life enthralled with her, with everything about her, before he was able to recognize the emotions as love. He'd courted other women before, had other lovers, but a place in his heart and mind has always been occupied by her. His extraordinary Princess._

_"Do you remember?" she'd asked him once, a week before their wedding. "My 12th birthday? You brought me a moonstone."_

_"Yes," he nodded, his hands moving to her neck where the necklace he'd had crafted for her fell against the hollow of her throat. The rock inside the necklace was a moonstone as well, and he warmed inside that she'd noticed the significance. "I told you that I would give you another when we promised to marry. I never forgot."_

_She looked back at him with unshed tears in her eyes and smiled shyly, as she'd done when she was twelve. Just as he'd done then, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, a move much more familiar to them than their clumsy first steps over a decade ago. Then he'd seen childish flashes of games, and jewels, and playing around in lessons. Now he saw flashes of ballrooms, and red coats, and fields upon fields of soldiers. And his face, smiling, frowning, looking back in adoration. He wondered what she saw._

_"Why do you love me?" she asked next, a small amount of desperation in her voice. He knew what she feared: that his love for her was the same as the rest of their people's, that he saw her as merely that lovely girl in the large palace._

_He didn't smile, he didn't frown--he told her with one hundred percent sincerity: "I love you because I know your soul Vilandra, and I know that it is just like mine. You are extraordinary in every way, and I love you because you have let me know it."_

_She didn't smile, or frown, either. She touched his cheek softly with her fingertips and held his gaze. Then she kissed him. Again. And again. And again._

--

He stared into his coffee mug a bit nervously and cleared his throat, not entirely sure what to say to the girl sitting across from him. Tess would have stared back at him confidently, a patient smile on her pretty face, those dazzling eyes warm and adoring. Ava was a bit more scattered than Tess though, her wide-eyed stares broken by nervous glances over her shoulder. She stared at him as if she'd been longing to see his face for years--and, he supposed, she had been.

"Are you okay?" he asked her finally. They hadn't seen or heard from her since they'd first met her, and she'd helped save Max and Tess. She smiled brokenly but nodded.

"Yeah," she replied in the positive. "It's just like, really weird to see you! You know?"

"Yes," he smiled too and stared into this coffee again. "It's quite a coincidence, running into each other like that." He had his doubts about that and was paranoid that she'd been following him--perhaps working with Lonnie and Rath even.

She shrugged. "I guess," she sipped her own coffee greedily, slipping a tiny hand out of her coat pocket just long enough to do so. He struggled for something else to say.

"What brought you to the Empire State Building?" he asked her, not really curious.

"I just...had a feeling," she told him, and for some reason he didn't doubt her answer. "Sometimes I just get this urge to go there, to be as high up as I can with the world at my feet. And this morning I woke up just knowing that I had to come here. That probably sounds crazy..." she laughed a little and ran a hand though her hair self-consciously.

Max felt his stomach tighten at her words. The feeling wasn't unknown to him, and he'd found himself at that building a few times now because he'd not been able to stay away. The way she'd described it, with "the world at her feet", made him remember exactly whey he'd thought she was Tess--because deep, deep down, where her very essence resided, she _was_ Tess. She was everything about Tess that he'd been unable to resist the first time around; she had the same unexplainable qualities that he'd been attracted to before. And now something had brought them together yet again, against his best wishes.

"Not so crazy," he told her softly, meeting her gaze and sending a warm smile her way.

That seemed to break the ice though, and she became a lot more forthcoming with the information. They talked for two hours, and caught each other up on the going's on in their alien lives. For some reason that Max couldn't explain and didn't want to admit to, he didn't tell her that he'd gotten married. He just...didn't.

--

She knew when he'd been dreaming about Antar--because he took to shooting her long, studying looks when he thought she didn't notice. Isabel got used to the tell-tale tingle on the back of her neck when he was watching her--as if her body knew his presence even before her conscious mind did. She supposed it was build into her--genetics--and it left her oddly comforted and reassured to know that he was around and thinking of her.

Michael moved to stand in front of her now and she looked up at him from her position on the floor. He held a mug of tea out to her with a blank expression. She took it wordlessly and he sank back down onto the floor, sitting cross-legged and facing her. They'd been doing this a few times in the week since the first dream. The other way that she knew that he was having the dreams: she'd been seeing them in his flashes.

It had taken a few tries but they'd forced through the embarrassment of having each other see the dreams. The unspoken agreement was that the memories were from their past life, and not _really_ them, so they pretended that they weren't uncomfortable with each other. And they didn't talk about it when they weren't in these "sessions".

"Ready?" he asked her seriously. She nodded and he set his mug down, reaching out and grabbing her hands in his. She closed her eyes and willed her mind open. She could feel his eyes focused on her face and the knowledge of him being _right_ there seemed to do the trick; she was hit with a wave of flashes from Michael.

_...a moonstone necklace...two hundred red coats moving in formation...their first kiss on her 12th birthday...a sword swinging towards--_

"Are you okay?" Michael demanded, his voice full of concern. Isabel felt his hands cup her cheeks and her eyes flew open in surprise. He stared back in concern and she realized that she'd cried out when she saw the sword. Her mug lay knocked over on the carpet beside her, the brown liquid soaking into the fibers. She's knocked it over during the flash. "Isabel!"

"Fine," she nodded, feeling his hands warm against her skin. "I'm fine." He nodded and let his hands fall away from her but still looked concerned.

"What did you see?" he asked her warily.

"Some stuff from your dream last night," she shook her head, trying to sort out exactly what she'd seen. "And a sword-- I think you were being attacked Michael! Did you dream about that too?"

"No," he looked worried but she didn't know if it was about the flash or about her. "But it was probably just army stuff Is."

"Yeah," she nodded, completely unconvinced. "You're probably right."

They hadn't yet spoken about it, neither sure how to really address the issue, but they were both aware that something seemed to be blocking a large part of their memories. The dreams and flashes came almost daily now, and though they didn't come in any particular order, Isabel knew that there was a certain point in the timeline that she wasn't getting past. She supposed it was a mental block, but neither of them had seen anything about Khivar, or a war, or a battle. It was eerie, knowing that it was coming but not being able to see it-- like knowing the future and being powerless to do anything but wait. That last flash though...

Michael waved his hand over the spilled cup of tea and cleaned up the mess. She didn't want to meet his gaze because these sessions always made her feel guilty in anticipation of what she was going to do to him, and to Antar. They both seemed to share the unspoken agreement that they'd had enough for one day.

"Do you have plans tonight?" she asked him as they both climbed to their feet. She picked up her now empty mug and took his from him as well.

"Everyone I know lives here," he reminded her. She smiled a bit. "Why?"

Isabel shrugged. "I was thinking about going to see Rath and Lonnie," she admitted. Truth was, she didn't want to go alone. "Want to come along?"

"Not really," he told her bluntly, sighing and mussing his hair up as he did. "They're not really my favorite people."

"You don't like _any_ people Michael," she rolled her eyes and headed for the kitchen.

"I like you," he shrugged. "Forgive me for not wanting to see our evil twins." He followed her into the kitchen and hopped up onto a counter.

"They're not evil Michael," she sighed. It was always the same argument about the Dupes--with both him and Max.

"They're a little evil Isabel," he countered with an infuriating smirk.

"Are you going to come or not?" she was annoyed now. Lonnie and Rath might be able to offer a little more insight into the parts of their memory that seemed to be blocked--or at least Lonnie might--and she was eager to learn more.

He sighed loudly and jumped off the counter. "Yeah, I'll come," he proclaimed, as if he were doing her a huge favor.

"Thanks ever so," she snorted. He smirked at her and just opened his mouth to retort when the kitchen door opened.

Max poked his head in and nodded to them. "Hey," he greeted. "Is Liz home yet? I've got something big to tell you all."

"No, she not--" Isabel stopped short when she saw Max's guest. She didn't know if she was mad or glad to see that blonde hair and those blue, blue eyes; she was furious with Tess for what she'd done, but she'd also had some pleasant memories of the girl from Antar. So had Michael.

Michael went for mad though, and held up his hand in warning, stopping slightly in front of Isabel. Isabel opened her mouth wordlessly at the girl beside her brother. Then she really looked at her; at the nose ring, the dark clothes, and the way she flinched and cowered a little behind Max. Tess would have stared back at them defiantly, even if she was afraid.

"Ava?" Isabel asked her. The girl gave a tiny wave and Max nodded. Michael slowly lowered his hand, his shoulders relaxing, and they all felt the room calm a bit. She hadn't noticed the increased energy coming off of him until it vanished. Unable to stop herself she laid a soothing hand on his back, feeling the strong muscles in his shoulder blades.

"Ava and I bumped into each other today," Max told them, ushering her inside. "And I was worried that she might be in danger out there on her own."

"Have they been following you?" Michael asked her. Ava nodded slightly.

"I've been moving around a bunch," she told them. "Just got back to NYC last month."

Isabel suddenly remembered her manners and invited Ava in to sit down. Everyone took a seat at the table and she retrieved four Snapples from the refrigerator for them. She handed them out and asked Ava if she was hungry.

"No, Im fine with this," she kept her hands wrapped around her Snapple bottle protectively and eyed Michael and Isabel a little warily. Isabel didn't really blame her.

"So you two just...bumped into each other?" Michael asked them skeptically.

"Yes," Max shot him a defensive look that clearly said 'shut up'. Isabel shifted uncomfortably.

"Ava," she addressed the shorter girl. "Have you been okay? I mean...what have you been doing?"

Ava bit her nails as she talked. "After I left Roswell I just sort of wandered around for a while," she told them. "I went to L.A. for a while but then I started something kinda strange; you know, like the feeling that you're being followed. Anyways, I moved to a couple of new places in LA but but then one day I know I got spotted by a black suit in Santa Monica. I got away but they followed me up to San Fran, and then to Portland. Then I was living in Seattle for a few months when I started to have those dreams--you know the ones, right? That was a couple of months ago. I thought that something might be going down and just got the strangest feeling that I needed to get home--back to Lon and Rath in New York. I've been back about a month now."

"So they know that you're here?" Isabel asked her, a little miffed that they hadn't mentioned her.

"I don't think so," she shook her head and began shredding the label on her Snapple. "I dropped in once I got back but they weren't home, and then I saw them a couple of days later. They seemed okay so I've just been laying low."

"Did the feds follow you?" Michael asked her.

"I don't think so," she shrugged. "I haven't seen 'em yet anyway. They're not the one's I'm really worried about anyway, _they're_ just humans."

"Who are you _really_ worried about?" Isabel asked, a part of her already knowing the answer.

"Khivar," Max answered for her. Michael stiffened but Ava nodded solemnly.

"Khivar wants Zan back on Antar so he can have him killed,' Ava said. "With the true King dead he'll have no one to oppose his rule."

"And how will he find us?" Michael asked.

"He may not know where you are now, but he's got people down here looking," Ava assured him. "You can be there's someone in Roswell still, waiting for you to go back. And Nicholas is still around here somewhere."

"But Nicholas is a skin," Isabel pointed out. "And we destroyed their husks, so his body has probably died by now.

"Khivar sent his number two down here to bring Zan back to Antar," Max chimed in. "I'm betting on the fact that he has a plan B to make sure that if something happens to that body they'll have another one lined up. he's too valuable a soldier to send without a fail safe."

"It's not just him wanting Zan either," Ava went on. "He wants Zan for revenge but he won't stop until he gets Vilandra back too. Rath is pretty willing to look the other way over it, but Lonnie remembers her life on Antar. She doesn't think I know but I do--they used to forget that I was even around sometimes, but I know that she remembers Khivar. And she'll do _anything_ to get back there with him."

"But...what about Rath?" Isabel heard herself ask weakly. From the memories that she'd had she knew that Vilandra had loved Rath, at least at one point.

"She'll do anything to get back there," Ava repeated, her face deadly serious. "She cares about him, but she'll leave all of us behind if she can get a ticket home."

Isabel didn't say it but she knew now more than ever that she had to speak to her duplicate, she had to find out what memories Lonnie had that she didn't--had to find out about Khivar and Rath. They all knew that Vilandra betrayed her people, but Isabel needed to know how she could love someone more than what she'd remembered feeling for Rath.

Max wanted Ava to stay with them, he explained. "She's been staying in the Bronx since she's gotten into town," he relayed to them. "But I think it's best if we stick together for now."

"I told him I'd be fine on my own," Ava mumbled. Max ignored it.

"Have you told Liz yet?" Michael asked with a smirk. Max frowned.

--

Liz Parker had had a long day. She'd only gotten eight dollars in tips at work, and had to stand on the bus. And then, when she finally was able to shake some of the rain water out of her hair, she climbed the cement steps to the house, already planning to slip into her PJs and watch trash tv with Max. But she opened the door with her key and stepped into the kitchen...and then she froze.

They hadn't noticed her come in, which was probably a good thing, because she must have looked completely flabbergasted. There, at her kitchen table, sat Antar's famed Royal Four. They were smiling and laughing at something Isabel had said, and they looked..._right_.

Liz Parker looked at her husband and the beautiful girl beside him and felt her stomach sink. She knew that things were going to change--she knew that things were going to get rough. For all of them, but especially for herself.

--

She could hear his heart beating, with her ear pressed against the warm skin of his chest the way that it was. Lonnie shivered a little and reached for one of the old blankets they had in their hole of a place and pulled it up over herself. Rath stirred a bit beneath her and then tightened his grip around her waist. She almost smiled at him -- so handsome when he was asleep, and quiet-- and then let herself snuggle uncharacteristically into his side, laying her head back against his chest.

Lonnie sighed and looked around the room that they slept in, frowning slightly when a rat scurried along the far wall. She supposed that was what you got living in the old tunnels like they were. Lately she'd been thinking more and more about it-- mostly since she'd seen the digs that Maxie and his crew lived in. They had something that resembled a life, those goody freaks, and though Lonnie wasn't really angling to join their so-called-lives, a little bit of material comforts at home sounded nice. Maybe an apartment instead of this piece of crap place...Lonnie wanted to go home, to Antar, more than anything. That was still the plan, but it had been three years since they missed that ride, and for all she knew it would be another three until Khivar could get her home. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if they found somewhere to live in the meantime.

The hand resting on her shoulder began to move, and Lonnie realized that he had woken up. Too bad...she loved him so much more when he was asleep! Rath pressed a kiss to her temple, his movements clumsy in his still sleepy state, and she couldn't help the smile that played on her lips. He couldn't see it though. "Babe, I'm cold," he told her sleepily, pulling her blanket around both of them. He signed in contentment once it was done and let his hands begin to wander a bit--over her shoulders, down the span of her back, across her hip bones, feeling the warm, smooth skin that he found there. Lonnie sighed a little blissfully and tightened her arms around him.

"I want to move," she blurted out.

"Okay," he released his grip on her.

"No," she rolled her eyes at him and didn't release her grip. She felt him shrug and then he wrapped his arms back around her. "I want to leave the tunnels."

"Oh...where do you want to go?" he asked. She paused.

"I just want out of the tunnels," she told him. "Someplace _nicer_ than this." Rath didn't say anything for a moment, but his fingers continued to trace small circles on her back.

Finally he spoke. "I'll find us somewhere then," his voice was low and steady. She felt herself smile warmly into his chest and then angled her face up to his.

"Yeah?" she got a strange, heady warm feeling in her chest when he looked into her eyes. He didn't smile, or frown, he just held her gaze in a way that made her mind tingle. She would have seen a flash if she had opened herself to it.

"I promise."

--

Jerry Abrahams was getting married --or at least that was the plan, barring any disasters. And since he was having such a good day, Michael Guerin agreed to walk down to the jewelers with him on their lunch break. "I have to pick up her ring," Jerry told him chipperly. Michael liked the guy, and it was a nice day outside, so he agreed to go for the walk. Engraved wedding bands seemed a little unnecessary to the alien, but then the whole marriage idea seemed unnecessary to Michael too. He just never really got it...because getting married was never something that he'd considered before. He didn't understand how Max and Isabel had actually married humans; he's loved Maria, and had wanted to be with her, but a strong part of him had always recognized that marrying her would be wrong. It just felt..._wrong_.

But, he shrugged to himself as he walked leisurely with Jerry down the block to Crawford & Son Jewelers, if he were Jerry he'd probably marry his girl too. If life were normal and uncomplicated...

"Thanks for coming with me man," Jerry clapped him on the shoulder as they walked into the store. Michael shrugged.

"As long as we end up going for that pizza," he joked. Jerry grinned at him then ambled over to the salesman. Michael peered into the display cases, checking out some watches there. 'I could use a new watch,' he thought. Jerry and the salesman were now talking about ring sizes, and Michael abandoned the watch display to wander around. He glanced only briefly at the rings and earrings, and continued onto the necklaces. 'Liz's birthday is coming up,' he reminded himself. 'Or did it just pass?'

Five minutes later when Jerry came over he found Michael staring intently at one of the necklaces in a display case, his face a little pale and eyes wide. "Mikey--are you okay?"

Michael ignored him, and just kept staring.

--

Ava hesitated at the doorframe in the kitchen, her eyes warily raking over the pretty brunette standing at the sink. Liz finished washing the last dish and placed it in the rack to dry, still not noticing that she was no longer alone in the room. Ava sighed to brace herself and then entered the kitchen. "Hey," she greeted Liz, taking a seat at the table. Liz turned around and smiled at her.

Ava knew that the human girl was not thrilled to have her there but that she was also very nice, and was trying hard to be welcoming. Ava didn't blame her, to be honest; she would be worried too. In the two weeks since she'd moved into the house Ava had been slowly becoming more and more comfortable with her fellow aliens. Isabel was a lot kinder to her than Lonnie ever had been, and Ava had managed to stop flinching whenever Michael spoke to her. Rath had been loud, and unpredictable, and...scary. At least in recent years. And Max...

Ava had been having the dreams. They'd never really stopped, but they had certainly increased in frequency since she'd moved in, and she reveled in them. Max was a visual reminder of her Zan, and they had a lot of common habits-- but it was in the dreams that she really got to remember him, to touch him, to be _with_ him. Max Evans thought that he had found his soulmate in Liz Parker, but when she had those dreams, she knew that deep down, Max knew that his soul already belonged to another. It belonged to _Ava_, and even though they had to get to know each other in this life, there was that primitive, biological part of them that knew they were made for each other. Literally.

"Hi Ava," Liz returned. She grabbed a couple of mugs out of a cupboard and poured them each a coffee. Ava hurried to the refrigerator and took out the milk for Liz and the tabasco sauce for herself. Liz handed her a cup and they proceeded to mix their coffees. Ava preferred 4 sugars and 4 shots of tabasco--the same as Zan. Liz did a very good job of not gagging at that.

"Do you have to work today?" she asked Liz.

"At three," Liz nodded. Ava wasn't sure what else to say, so she bit her nails and sipped at her coffee. It was good, nice and strong. She was beginning to feel a little guilty actually, because she was staying with them but she wasn't working. Ava wasn't used to doing things on the straight and narrow having spent most of her time living in old subway tunnels and getting by on stolen food and shop lifted clothes. She didn't have ID, or a resume at all...of course that didn't mean she couldn't fake them as she'd done before.

Ava vowed to go out that day and look for a job--any job. It was only fair.

"Cool,; she told Liz, at a loss for words. Truth was, she really just wanted to see her family again-- Lonnie, and maybe Rath. She knew that they were awful, she knew they were murderers, but she also knew that they were the only family she'd ever had. She'd loved them once, when they had been all together, and young. Before the Summit--before Zan pissed them off. A part of her still wanted that -- the part what saw what Max and Isabel and Michael had-- one big, happy, alien family.

--

Isabel laid back against her pillows and willed herself to relax. In her hand she held a picture of Maria Deluca. She was checking in on their recently departed friends, by visiting their reams. She did it occasionally, once a month, as she'd arranged with Maria. The others didn't know though; her and Maria decided that it was probably for the best that way. They didn't do it to chat, they did it for security reasons. Isabel waited a few seconds until she was able to break into Maria's dream.

She found herself very suddenly sitting in a restaurant at a table with a red checked tablecloth and a melting candle in the centre. Across the room from her Maria sat with a man who's face Isabel couldn't make out. They wore matching berets and he had on a tight striped t-shirt, the kind you'd see on a French guy in a cheesy cartoon. Isabel looked out of the window and down--way down--at the city below her. They were in Paris.

Maria and the guy took big swigs of red wine from their glasses and toasted to their wealth. She wore a long, glittery dress and huge diamond earrings. Isabel smirked. "To our new yacht," Marie held her glass up. "It will come in handy when we head down to Monaco for the summer!"

"Oui, oui," the guy echoed. Isabel giggled at his lame accent and Maria looked up, catching her eye.

"Is it that time again?" Maria asked, a small smile on her face. The guy - Isabel knew now that it was Kyle - didn't seem to notice her there, and kept talking to Maria as if they weren't interrupted. No sound came out though. She expected that. "Is everyone okay?"

Isabel nodded. "We're all fine," she assured her friend. "We miss you both."

Maria nodded.

"Are you okay?" Isabel returned. "Safe?"

"We're good," Maria promised. "No one's followed us, we're pretty sure, and we're settling into our new lives."

"Good," Isabel sighed, truly relieved. She got up and approached their table. Maria didn't stand. Isabel stopped when she could see Kyle's face. "Is he...has he had any symptoms yet?"

Maria sighed reassuringly. "No," she told her. "He's been fine, great even. We miss you guys, but we're doing okay on out own. We have each other..."

Isabel nodded. "Good, that's...great Maria," she told her. "I should go." Maria nodded again. They both knew that it was safest for all of them if they knew as little as possible. Isabel would only visit her a couple of more times, to make sure they weren't followed at all. After that...

Maria stood now, but didn't try to touch her; they both knew that Isabel couldn't in the dreams. "I know that he can't know about this," Isabel looked down at Kyle again, longing to be able to reach out and make contact with him - any part of him. "But could you give him a hug for me? Just...could you do that?"

"I promise," Maria looked a little teary now and she reached her hand up to Isabel, but it passed right through he arm. "Can you..."

"I will," Isabel assured her. "All of them, I swear."

A far off beeping noise sounded, insistent and irritating. "I have to wake up now!" Maria's eyes widened a bit. Isabel waved a hand and gave a small wave.

"Be safe."

When she next opened her eyes she was back in her bedroom in Brooklyn.

"Were you asleep?" Michael frowned at her from the doorway, his uniform half unbuttoned and clearly just arriving home. "It's like seven o'clock."

"No," she shook her head. "I was just...resting my eyes." She climbed to her feet and slipped the picture under her pillow so he couldn't see it. Michael didn't look like he believed her.

"Whatever," he dismissed it. "Did you still want to go see Sid and Nancy tonight or what?" Isabel nodded enthusiastically and he sighed. "Let me change first." Michael ambled off towards his room and Isabel grabbed her purse and coat from behind her door. They'd stopped by the tunnels a couple of weeks ago and found them emptied. Isabel had dream walked Rath and found out from him that they'd moved.

Neither of them were willing to give up their new addresses, so they agreed to meed in the old tunnel. Michael came back, now changed into his street clothes. "Ready?" he asked her gruffly and she nodded.

Then, suddenly remembering her promise to Maria, she reached out and pulled him into a hug. He stiffened a bit in surprise but hugged her back. She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and then pulled away completely. Michael blinked at her. "What..."

"Never mind," she waved her hand dismissively and led the way to the stairs ." Come on."

--

They all stared a little awkwardly at each other, neither pair really wanting to start things. Finally Rath sighed loudly. "So...," he drawled but didn't add to that.

"You moved out," Isabel pointed out, feeling incredibly stupid as she did. Lonnie raised an eyebrow at that. "How's the new place?"

"Nice," Rath replied, apparently willing to make an effort. "We've got a view of a building next door, but at least it's, you know, _above_ ground."

Isabel nodded politely and then looked at Michael expectantly. "So, uh," he stuttered, placed on the spot. "Things are going good then--"

Lonnie had apparently had enough. "Okay, what is it you guys want?" she demanded with a sigh.

"We had some questions about Antar," Isabel admitted. They looked only moderately surprised at that.

"Well we only remember so much about Antar," Rath told them. "And I don't know what else I can tell you. Have you been getting flashes?"

Lonnie shifted uncomfortably and Isabel realized that Rath probably still didn't know all that she remembered from their lives there. "We've been getting some," Isabel nodded. "I'd like to talk to Lonnie about some of it though...in private." Rath frowned but Lonnie gave a small, almost grateful nod and Isabel grabbed her arm, pulling her over to an abandoned desk along a far wall before he could say anything against it. "Why haven't you told him yet?" Isabel hisses. Lonnie shook her hand off and hopped up onto the dingy looking desk.

"Maybe it's none of your business," she shot back.

"If it's bad enough that you can't tell _him," _she pointed in Rath's direction. "Then it probably is my business!"

Lonnie held her gaze defiantly, but Isabel was stubborn, and determined to find out the truth. She needed to understand what had happened there, and she needed to know what Lonnie knew. Her Dupe sighed. "I remember living on Antar," she admitted. "Being on Antar...and I remember Khivar."

Isabel's eyes widened. "You mean you remember what we did?" she demanded, grabbing her arm again.

"Sheesh, yes!" Lonnie smacked her hand away again.

"Then why?" Isabel cried. "Why would you do that to him --them -- _all of them_?"

Lonnie looked back at her like she was crazy. "What do you mean why?" she laughed wryly. "Because we loved him."

"I don't remember any of it," Isabel told her desperately. "Nothing past the wedding."

"What wedding?"

"_Our_ wedding!"

"To Khivar?" Lonnie looked confused now and Isabel frowned.

"No, to Rath," she paused then. "Wait, did we marry Khivar too?"

"I don't know," Lonnie said quietly, as if just realizing it. "I don't remember getting married at all."

"But I thought you remembered life on Antar?" Isabel asked. Lonnie looked scared now, as if she didn't even know what to say.

"I--so did I," she admitted. Isabel took a deep, calming breath and then sat on the desk beside Lonnie. "What exactly do you remember?"

"I remember meeting with Khivar," Lonnie told her, a glassy, far off look on her face as she remembered. "There was an abandoned homestead a couple of miles outside of the capital city that we would meet at. I know that he had been a Captain in Antar's army, Rath promoted him. But I remember that he was also the leader of the Rebel forces, and that he wanted Zan to fall. They wanted a Republic. I remember agreeing with him--and I remember wanting to listen to him talk for hours. He was this powerful, amazing man.

I gave him access to the palace that morning--when they took Zan's crown. I remember opening the south gates so that the rebel army could get past the walls. I wanted them to get it; I wanted Rath's army to fall back. Our protector told me that I betrayed them because I loved him." She paused now and smiled bitterly, her eyes actually glistening a little. "I haven't told anyone else that."

Isabel struggled not to sob. So it _was_ true! "How could we do that to them?" she muttered. "I remember loving them all so much. How could we betray our family like that? Is it even possible to be in love with two people that much at the same time?"

Lonnie looked across the room to where Rath and Michael were having a heated discussion. "I don't really remember much about him at all," she admitted. "About any of them. I know who they were but...what do you remember?" Isabel told her about her dreams and the flashes. She told her about what Michael had seen too. "You guys both remember the same thing?" Lonnie asked in surprise.

"Of course," Isabel shrugged. "We've been working on remembering things, and he's let me dram walk him a couple of times -- he hates that though!" Lonnie stared back in disbelief. "Well, don't you see any of his memories when you see the flashes?"

She shook her head. "We don't do the flashes anymore," she told her. "Not since we were little."

"But you still have the dreams, right?"

"We used to have the same dream about a rock formation," Lonnie admitted. "But I haven't had any new dreams in a while."

"Then...why are you together?" Isabel blurted out.

"Because we're supposed to be," she replied simply.

"But do you even love him at all?" Isabel asked in awe. "Doesn't he mean anything more to you than just someone you're _supposed_ to be with?"

"Of course he does! Rath's my family here, he's...he's everything that I have down here."

"Then how can you say you're in love with Khivar?" Isabel demanded. "How can you want to go back there?"

"Because I _remember_ Khivar!" Lonnie snapped. "I know that he was important to me!"

"You don't remember anything else though!" she snapped back. "You don't remember your family or your husband! How can you trust those memories that you do have when you don't know _anything_ else?"

Lonnie didn't answer, she just looked over at Rath with a troubled look on her face.

--

"So you've been remembering things?" Rath actually looked a bit excited at that. Michael just nodded, forcing himself not to look in Isabel's direction. "Well, what did you see?"

he hesitated, but decided that Rath knowing wouldn't really hurt. "I saw some training stuff," he began. "I remember them teaching us about the Granolith, and that they took DNA samples from us to use to make, well..._us_. The hybrids. They sent both sets of clones down to Earth once things really started to get bad, after Zan's coronation. And..."

"What?"

"I remember _her_," Michael nodded in the girls' direction now. "Vilandra."

"What about her?" Rath asked eagerly.

"I remember our engagement," he almost smiled at the memory. "At Zan's coronation ball...I don't remember anything after the wedding though, it's like it's blocked or something."

"What was she like there?" Rath asked him, his gaze firmly locked on Lonnie across the room. "Was she like _my_ Lon--or was she different?"

Michael shrugged, not really knowing what "his Lon" was like--besides the side that killed her brother that is. "She was...I don't know," he ran a hand through his hair, really trying to find the words. "She was Isabel in a lot of ways, but somehow different. She was beautiful, and powerful and just...kind of guarded but she was the most amazing woman--at least, I remember believing that." The more he spoke, the more it sounded exactly like Isabel to him. Rath nodded thoughtfully.

"So, we got married then," Rath mused out loud. "But...if they send us down before things got really bad, how are supposed to remember how things ended?"

Michael frowned at that. "I don't know," he admitted. He was confused too, but when Khivar had come for Isabel on her honeymoon Michael had had a very clear memory of her in a war, granting access to the Rebel army because she wanted peace for her planet. He'd told her with absolute certainty that she'd meant for the best, because a part of him just _knew_ it. That had been the end for them--and yet somehow they were given all of the memories, right up until then. It didn't make sense...how did he know that? How did he get that memory?

"What do you remember?" he asked Rath.

"Some stuff about our army," Rath shrugged. "I remember these red coats, and getting a fancy medal when I was like 23. I remember being in a classroom with Zan, and that the water there was kinda..._thick_. Oh, the first time I kissed Lonnie I got a flash about a necklace, with some kinda strange stone on it."

"Moonstone," Michael supplied with a wry smile.

"Oh, yeah," Rath grinned, remembering. "Well, it was mostly stuff like that...random things. Then we started having those dreams --you know the ones--and I started to remember being in love with her. I mean, we were together already by that point, but after that every time Lone and I would...well I would see flashes of being with her _there_. Really vivid ones, you know? Like so real I was actually still there. It was amazing..." he trailed off wistfully and Michael suddenly felt like he was intruding. "Anyway, the flashes just kind of stopped. I still have dreams sometimes, but I can never really remember them when I wake up."

"Why do you think they've stopped?" Michael asked him. Rath shrugged and averted his eyes then.

"Probably because we've 'realized our destiny' or whatever," he used air quotes for that. "Who knows."

Michael nodded, unsure of what else to say, but as he followed Rath's gaze to where the girls were still talking he suddenly felt sorry for him. And really, really glad that he had Is, and not Lonnie.

--

Lonnie sat on a lonely, rickety old chair in their small kitchen and stared morosely into space. She felt the most peculiar sense of..._something_ that she couldn't quite pinpoint. She didn't want to admit it, but deep down she knew that it was guilt. She'd been a criminal most of her life, but this was the first time that she'd truly felt like one. She looked around the apartment, the one that he had gotten for her. Lonnie had always know that Rath loved her, and she loved him too, in her own way.

She'd always thought that her love for Rath was secondary to what she used to feel for Khivar, but since talking to Isabel, she wasn't so sure anymore. Her goody-goody twin had insisted that they'd loved Rath, more than she'd thought at least; so that left her wondering if you could truly be in love with two people at the same time.

For as long as Lonnie remembered they'd been trying to get home. But now, in the new apartment that he'd somehow gotten (she wasn't asking how he'd done it), she was thinking more and more about what that would mean, what she would leave behind. Zan was gone and they'd thrown Ava to fend for herself, but Rath...it had been Lonnie and Rath for as long as she could remember in this life. She'd cared for him, and she'd always been aware that they were supposed to be together, in all of their lives. She'd willingly stopped having the flashes, closed herself off to them, ever since they'd started having the dreams. She'd dreamt of Rath, and of cliffs in the desert, and of a baby-- and she dreamt of _him_. Khivar.

She'd been terrified that the others would find out about him, and leave her all alone, so she held back, knowing that Rath would see it in the flashes. She'd been holding back ever since.

But he never had. He didn't see them and she never told him shat she'd seen, so he assumed that they'd just stopped. But she always saw them, his memories. Usually they were of their life on Earth, most of the time they were of her; but sometimes, they were of Antar. She never doubted that he was devoted to her. Rath was a bit of a dog, and she'd always allowed him free reign with the skanks he encountered, but she never, ever worried. Because unlike human girls, who had to wonder and worry, she knew that she was his number one; she saw it every time he kissed her, every time they touched. Rath never hid from her, and he would be happy to just straighten up and have a life with her on whichever planet they ended up on. She was the one that held back...always, in all ways.

The apartment was messy, but it was warm, and it was _theirs_. Because she had requested it. She was horrified at how sentimental she was feeling-- as if her human side was taking over somehow.

The door opened then and Rath came in, a bag of groceries in his arms. "Hey," he greeted, setting the bag down on the kitchen counter. "I got us some stuff-- it's pretty cool having a fridge to..." He trailed off when he saw her face. "Lon?" She looked up at him, knowing her eyes were watery, but also knowing that there was no point in trying to hide it. "What is it?" he looked scared now and abandoned his groceries to kneel in front of her. "What happened? Lonnie!"

Her chest began to ache as she took in the worry on his familiar face. She was suddenly struck with the oddest thought, that she would know him anywhere. She felt terrified when two tracks or warm tears began to snake their way down her cheeks. His eyes widened in panic at the sight and his hands flew up to cradle her cheeks, the rough pads of his thumbs wiping the tear tracks away. "What happened?" his voice sounded broken and small and it was all she could take. She hadn't cried in..._years_, and it scared both of them.

Lonnie felt more than heard the sob that escaped her lips, low and guttural as if she'd never done it before. His hands shook against her cheeks and she batted them away. He looked at her momentarily before she pulled him forward and pressed her lips to his. He kissed her back readily and her hands grabbed at his shoulders, pressing herself to him with need. "I love you," she mumbled into the kiss.

He frowned a bit and pulled back enough to ask: "What?"

"I love you," she repeated, louder this time. "You know that right?" she was painfully aware that her cheeks were tearstained and that she probably tasted like salt. He nodded slowly.

"I know," he assured her. "I love you too...you're scaring me though Lon."

"I'm sorry," she sighed, the first time that those words had ever spilled from her lips with any real meaning behind them. And God, did she mean it. "I'm so..."

"Lonnie, what happened?" he asked her slowly. She averted her eyes.

"You won't love me anymore," she whispered quickly, her mind racing with the possibilities of what would happen once she told him the truth --what she remembered, what she'd done, what she'd kept from him.

"That's stupid."

"You won't love me the same," she warned him, teary again She wanted to die at the thought of him pulling away, of him leaving her alone. But, the rational part of her mind told her, just a week ago she would have died at the though of _anyone_ seeing her crying.

He cupped her face in his hands once more and held her gaze. "You are my entire world Lonnie," his voice was warm now, and the most serious she'd ever heard. "For however many lifetimes we've got. I'll do anything for you; and I will always love you as much as I do now. I promise."

She stared back into the warm eyes that she remembered from her childhood, the only ones she'd ever seen look at her with complete adoration and acceptance. She'd loved a notion of Khivar since she'd been sixteen, but she'd only ever loved one person her whole life, and that was Rath. Rath always kept his promises to her, and she knew that she had to trust him.

The flash his her so suddenly that she almost forgot what it was, having been so long since she'd seen one. It was short, but very clear:

_...she was wearing a white dress like nothing she'd ever seen before, and standing at an altar with Rath. He smiled at her and she saw her own face smile back at him in adoration. he touched her hand and the air around them crackled with energy..._

Coming back to reality, Lonnie blinked once, her vision clearing, and nodded at him. "I have to tell you," she was aware of the quiver in her voice, of the nervousness, but she didn't care. She had to tell him, she had to make it right with him. "What I remember from Antar...what I did there...and what I tried to do here."

--

The dozen or so Skins that he passed saluted him as he hurried by, their new bodies fresh and unharmed. The Royal Four may have ruined his Harvest, but Khivar always had a contingency plan for his higher ranking men. His Captains were given new skins, those of warriors, and Nicholas...he was no longer a boy. Khivar provided him with a new skin befitting that of a General. He was pleased.

"General," his number two, Captain Brugger, greeted him with a salute. Nicholas nodded and returned it.

"Is it ready?" he demanded.

"Yes sir," Brugger confirmed. "Just in through there."

Nicholas hurried through the door and into the almost empty room that the Summit had been held in. On the table in the middle sat a holopad, and he pressed his palm to it to activate it. Immediately a beam of light shot up, large enough to contain within it the image of their ruler, King Khivar. "Nicholas!" Khivar greeted jovially. "It is good to see you my friend! How is the new skin?"

"Fits like a glove, your Majesty," Nicholas emphasized the title with a smile. "How are things at home?"

Khivar's smile faded then, and a troubled frown settled across his handsome face. "That is actually the reason for this call," he admitted. "The royalist rebels have been causing trouble again ever since Ava's return," he sighed. "Now that they know the Royal Four is out there, _alive_, they've increased their resistance. Because I trust you completely Nicholas, I'll admit to you that I fear a revolution."

Nicholas blanched at that. "Is there something we can do sir?" he asked, eager to help. He'd gained more power under Khivar's rule that could ever be hoped for under the house of Zor.

"I want the Royal Four eliminated," he told his second. "Bring them to me alive if possible...if not, bring me their heads. _Both_ sets of them."

"And Vilandra?" Nicholas asked. He knew about the slight upon Khivar by Isabel Evans on her honeymoon, and wasn't sure of his friend's feelings upon that. Khivar hesitated.

"Bring them both alive if you can," he decided. "I will rule with her if possible, but my kingdom is of the utmost priority now. In thirty days time a ship will arrive for you, I'll forward the coordinates to you. I also have a team right now working on producing a charging cell for the Granolith. I want you to find it and bring it home."

"The Granolith?" Nicholas stuttered "But we don't know where it is!"

"We know that Ava used it to return to Antar," Khivar snapped. "She was pregnant and living in Roswell at the time ,so she couldn't have had to travel far for it! She may have kept you out of her head once but the others cannot. Figure it out!"

"Yes sir," Nicholas bowed his head quickly and Khivar seemed to calm down after that.

"Our energy fields are running low now," he advised. "I will need what's left to send your communicator the pick-up coordinates."

"Yes sir," Nicholas could almost not contain his glee. He would be going home soon! "I'll see you soon then."

Khivar saluted him. "To good fortune."

"To good fortune," Nicholas echoed. The hologram flickered off and his communicator came to life instantly. Nicholas checked and confirmed the pick-up coordinates: somewhere in the middle of the Nevada dessert.

"Any news sir?" Brugger asked him as he left the meeting room. Nicholas smiled.

"We go home in a month Brugger," he announced gleefully. Brugger's joy at the news was obvious and he took Nicholas's communicator eagerly when it was offered. "The plans are in here. Summon the men to the meeting room in one hour; I'll brief them on the mission."

"Yes sir," Brugger saluted and then hurried off.

Nicholas smiled to himself. Tomorrow would be a big day.

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Safe**

Liz Parker prided herself on being a smart girl. She did well on her SATs, and got into really good colleges. So now, when she noticed a considerable drop in her powers, she never had trouble acknowledging that there was something wrong there. She hadn't been able to zap anything for a few weeks, and when she could manage it the force was weak. The logical part of her brain told her that she'd never really had strong powers to begin with, and that they really only manifested themselves when she was angry or upset. But lately...

As Michael and Isabel learned more about their lives on Antar their powers seemed to grow. Michael blew up the toaster trying to speed up the toasting process, and Isabel made Max flinch while she walked by, mentally fuming over him leaving wet towels on the bathroom floor. Max had pretended not to be affected by their changes, but she saw him eyeing Ava sometimes and knew that he was wondering what powers they had not yet tapped into.

Ava seemed unconcerned though, because she was already very aware of what she was capable of. Liz envied that, because she had a sinking feeling that her own abilities weren't just dwarfing in comparison to her hybrid friends'; they were _disappearing_.

Even Max seemed to be getting stronger, though he didn't seem to be trying to. Michael had but his hand cooking and Max healed it so quickly, not even feeling the ripped skin as he did so. He didn't seem to notice, but Liz did. She felt it, because her husband's power was increasing as fast as hers was decreasing.

As terrifying as that was though, the rest of their lives seemed good -- except for the whole hunted, on the run, ex-wives things, of course. Liz resigned herself to enjoying her new life and, smart girl that she may be, willingly ignored the cautionary part of her brain that told her that things always seemed to happen when they got too comfortable.

--

"So, she told you?" Michael asked around a mouthful of hotdog. He dripped mustard onto his shirt and rubbed at it with a napkin, smearing the yellow and staining the shirt. Beside him Rath nodded, also eating one, and they hurried down the stairs and into the subway. "And?"

Rath shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted. "I should probably be pissed but...well, I don't really remember it though. You know? How do you be mad about something she did a lifetime ago that you have no memory of? And I've done shit to her too, since we've been here. Anyway she's real strange now too. Can't barely look at me lately."

"That would be _guilt_ that she's feeling," Michael rolled his eyes as Rath went to jump the turn style. He pulled him back and handed him a token. "Dude! Anyway, she probably just doesn't know how to deal with it--what with her never actually feeling guilt before."

"Guilt is a human emotion Mikey," Rath clapped him on the shoulder. They got onto a train and Rath, spotting an empty seat, made to hurry over to it. Michael pulled him back by his jacket and offered it to a pregnant woman instead.

"We are half human," Michael snapped at him while the woman sat down gratefully. "You should try acting like it...at least half of the time." Rath ignored him and they sat in silence.

"We're almost there," he told Michael as the train came to a stop. "What did you want anyway?"

Michael dug in his pocket and withdrew a cellphone. He handed it to Rath. "It's a prepaid, in case of emergency," he explained. Rath raised an eyebrow at that. "Isabel wanted you to have it. We think something's coming."

"Why the phone though?" he asked, pocketing the cellphone with a shrug. "Lonnie can get in touch if we need to."

"In case Lonnie can't get in touch," Michael clarified. "Or if you're by yourself. Just use the phone man, the numbers are in the speed dial. Isabel is worried about the two of you alone okay. Do this for her?"

Michael realized that that probably wasn't a fair thing to ask him, since Rath didn't think he owed them anything. But his dupe surprised him and nodded. "How is our girl anyway?" Rath leered, climbing to his feet as the train began to slow down at his stop. "Have you boned her yet? You know once you go alien you never go back!"

Michael snorted. "I've heard that," he reached into another pocket and pulled out an envelope. "Is and I are friends."

"Of course," Rath nodded sarcastically. "It's not like you're meant to be with her or anything. Oh wait...yes you are! Oh, and it's not as if she's smoking hot or anything. Oh wait...yes -- What's this?" He caught the envelope that Michael tossed at him (rather roughly) and lost his train of thought.

"I found it in a jewelry shop in SoHo," Michael told him as Rath opened the envelope.

"Woah...is this..."

"Yeah," Michael nodded. "I cut the stone in half, because...well I guess I figured that it should sort of be yours too."

Rath nodded his thanks. "Be sure to give Izzy a nice, friendly handshake for me," he called back over his shoulder and then slipped out of the sliding doors, getting lost in the sea of commuters.

--

Ava untied her apron with a sigh and tossed it into her locker. She'd had a long day and was looking forward to going home and watching tv with Max and Michael. One of the other waitresses, Frannie, saw her putting away her things. "Here's your share hun," she handed her a wad of bills.

"Thanks Frannie," Ava smiled and tucked the money into her pocket. "You in tomorrow?"

"You betcha," Frannie nodded, retying her own apron. The manager stuck his head into the room quickly.

"Ava there's a guy out here to see ya," he told her.

"Okay, thanks," she nodded at him. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Bye," Frannie waved and then retreated to the employee bathroom. Ava slipped her bag over her shoulder and pushed through the swinging doors. She tossed a little wave to their cook and then ran smack into a tall man in a black suit.

"Sorry!" she cried, putting a hand out to steady herself. Her hand touched his arm and she saw a flash...

_...a battlefield full of fallen soldiers...Rath falling to the ground, the trail of blood dripping from his mouth matching the colour of his uniform...Max, Tess, Isabel and Michael tied up in the school...herself walking out of the Empire State building..._

Ava pulled away with a gasp. His face was different, but she knew him well enough to recognize the malice behind those eyes. "Come quietly and none of them need to get hurt," Nicholas whispered into her ear. It was all she could do to not cry out at his touch, but concern for her coworkers was enough to keep her quiet and allow him to lead her out of the diner.

They came to a black car and he opened the door. "Get in," he told her.

"No way," she took a step back and braced herself to hit him with a mid warp. The next thing she knew her head was throbbing from the blow to the back of her head. She didn't pass out but her nerve endings were on fire and she couldn't focus enough to perform the mind warp. He pushed her roughly into the car and she cried out when her shoulder slammed painfully into the door jam.

Just as she was starting to lose consciousness she heard him speak again. "You're going to help us find the others..."

Then her world went black.

--

Isabel and Michael were sitting at the kitchen table later that night, watching silently as Max proceeded to pace back and forth along the length of the kitchen. "She should be here by now," he told them...again...for the tenth time. "She was off at seven and it's five minutes after nine!"

"Maybe she had to work late Max," Isabel offered but her brother shook his head.

"She would have called," he insisted. "She always does. No, something happened."

Michael didn't want to laugh at him, because in truth he was concerned about her too. But the pacing _was_ pretty out of character. "Try her phone again," Michael suggested instead. Max did but hung up a moment later.

"It's off still," he tossed the phone aside. "I told her not to turn it off..."

"She has to turn it off at work Max," Isabel reminded him.

"You could try reaching her," Max realized and looked to his sister eagerly. He tapped a finger to his temple. "Just reach out and..."

"I can't contact her that way Max," Isabel shook her head. "Her powers are too strong for that. _She_ gets in touch when she needs it."

"I know," he sighed. "It's just--"

He stopped talking abruptly when the kitchen door opened. They all turned to see the new arrival and Max sighed in relief when she came in. Michael and Isabel were off their feet immediately on their feet though at the sight of her. "Ava!" Max cried, running to her side. "What happened?"

She groaned and let Max help her to a chair. Isabel and Michael moved closer curiously, and watched in concern. Max prodded tentatively at the back of her hear, causing her to wince in pain. He pulled his fingers away, the tips covered in sticky red blood. "Nicholas showed up at the diner today," Ava told them, rubbing her left shoulder gingerly. "He told me that he was going to use me to find the rest of you, and he hit me over the head. I blacked out and when I woke up again I was in the alley behind the diner."

"Oh my God," Isabel gasped, covering her mouth in shock. Michael put an arm around her shoulders, but his eyes remained trained on Ava.

Ava squeezed her eyes shut with a small grimace of pain. Seeing the action, Max squatted down beside her and caught her gaze. "I can heal it," he told her softly. "If you want..." She nodded and gave him a weak smile, her gaze holding his a little adoringly. Max raised a hand and cupped her cheek with a look of deep concentration on her face. Beside Isabel Michael shifter a bit, and she realized that she actually felt a little uncomfortable watching them. Like she was _intruding_.

Ava's head wound and shoulder healed and Max held her gaze for one last moment before moving wordlessly to take a seat beside her. Isabel knew in her bones that he'd had a flash while he did it, but she also knew that he'd never admit to it. It would hurt Liz too much.

"Do you think they followed you?" Michael asked her. Ava shook her head.

"I did a mind warp," she told the, pressing her hand to the matted blood in her hair with a grimace. "Anyone who was watching thinks that I got in a cab and headed uptown. I took the long way back." Isabel reached out and waved her hand over Ava's hair, removing the dried blood and red stains from the blonde tresses. The girls shared a warm smile, despite Ava's nervousness.

"We'll have to leave the house," Max told them with a defeated tone. "Nicholas may have gotten the location from you while he had you..."

"But Nicholas wasn't able to breach her mind before--"

"No, Nicholas wasn't able to breach _Tess's_ mind," Max reminded them. "But we have no idea what powers Tess was able to use, Nasedo had been teaching her for most of her life. He could know something...we can't risk it."

"Why would he let her go though?" Isabel insisted. "If he knows where we are he wouldn't give Ava back to us, would he?"

"We need to warn Rath and Lonnie," Michael said suddenly.

"For all we know he's working with Rath and Lonnie--"

"No, Maxwell," Michael cut him off confidently. "Besides, they don't know that Ava's here--how could they send him after her?"

"He saw me leaving the Empire State Building," Ava told them. "And followed me to work...I should have noticed!"

"You couldn't have known," Max told her kindly. "It's not your fault."

"Where do you want to go?" Michael asked.

"We need to get out of the city I think," Max decided. "At least for a while, until we come up with something better. We'll leave tonight."

"And Rath and Lonnie?" Ava asked him quietly, her eyes wide and pleading. "I know they're...but they're my family. I can't leave them for Nicholas to find." Max looked hesitant. "Please?" Her plea seemed to register with him, or maybe it was the teary doe eyes that did it, but Max nodded.

"I'll call," Michael told them, grabbing the phone.

"Where will we go?" Isabel repeated Michael's earlier question.

"I don't know," Max admitted. "Tell them to meet us at the tunnels though. We'll all go together from there."

Michael nodded and made the call. While the others watched him the kitchen door opened once again and Liz came in, still his her work uniform. Isabel watched as she eyed her husband and roommates warily. Max's hand dropped from Ava's arm like it had been scalded and he flashed Liz a weak smile, his eyes looking more guilty than anything.

Isabel realized that, for the first time in his life, Max had momentarily forgotten all about Liz Parker.

Liz frowned. "What's going on?"

--

"This show is great," Lonnie grinned as she shifted around on the couch, trying to get more comfortable. On the screen Bart Simpson pulled out a can of spray paint and Rath smirked absentmindedly. Her legs landed across his lap and he moved his hands easily to make room for them.

"I don't care what we watch," he admitted. "I just like having a tv." She smiled and nodded in agreement and then went back to watching her show.

He watched her.

Rath had noticed that she'd been uneasy around him lately, since her confession the week before about Vilandra's -- and _her_--betrayal. And he'd been uncomfortable for a while, he would admit that, because he'd never, ever, considered being anything less than completely honest with her. She'd been everything to him for most of his life. So he didn't understand why or how she could keep something like that from him, or how she could be willing to leave him behind.

He had been hurt, and mad...but in the end it was all still about Lonnie for him. She felt bad, and she did eventually tell him; and he'd been hoping that they were on their way to starting to have a real life now, together. So he decided that maybe they were even. She fessed up, and he stopped fooling around, and they could just...be. And so, when he came home from his meeting with Michael on the train, he pressed his hand against his pocket, feeling the necklace inside it. He found her sitting at the kitchen table again, looking depressed and miserable and just generally wallowing in her own guilt. He'd marched over to her purposefully and pulled her to her feet. Her eyes had widened, a bit from shock and a bit from annoyance (because despite the guilt his girl was still a firecracker) at his actions.

"It doesn't change anything," Rath told her seriously, holding her gaze steadily. "What she did, or what you didn't tell me...you're still the same person that I've loved all my life, and that won't change. Not in this life--not in _any_ life." He pressed the necklace into her hand then, feeling the cool stone and the soft leather string twine into her grasp. Lonnie's eyes stared down at the necklace in wonderment, a flash of recognition causing them to widen.

Her voice was shaky but sure when she spoke. "It's moonstone," she breathed.

Rath took her face in is hands and pressed his forehead to hers. "Let's just start over Lonnie," he whispered, her breath warm against his. "We can have a better life together--please?"

Her nod of agreement was tiny but it was there, and he let his lips meld into hers.

Now they sat watching tv and her necklace hung around her neck, the dark stone shining in the glow from the appliance, and Rath smiled.

Then the phone rang--the cellphone that Michael had given him a week before. He reached for it while Lonnie watched in concern. He knew that things had been going too well...Murphy's Law and all that.

--

Isabel hurried around her bedroom, stuffing various items into her suitcase. She was trying to narrow it down to necessities only, but it was hard--they'd acquired so many things since they got to New York. "You know you're going to have to carry that thing, right?" Michael asked in amusement from the doorway. She ignored the comment and continued packing. He dropped his belongings--one whole backpack full--onto her bed and watched. "Is? We can get you new clothes you know," he reminded her. "You don't need _everything_."

"I don't want new clothes," she told him, not stopping the routing through of her dresser drawers. "I like my clothes, I like all of my things actually, and I'm tired of always leaving them behind. I don't know how you can be so blase about this!"

"It's just stuff," he shrugged. "I've got all I need."

"You have, what...one change of clothes in there?" she scoffed at his bag.

"Yeah...another pair of shoes," he added "You and Max...all I need."

She did stop packing then and sent him a small smile. Suddenly she felt incredibly frivolous--he was right. She could get new things, new clothes, new shoes; as long as she was with them she really had everything that she needed. Isabel pulled a backpack out from under her bed and began to pack that instead.

Michael stood up and came to stand beside her. "I have something for you," he told her, holding out a velvet box. Isabel took the box with a curious smile. "I just...I _had_ to get it."

She laughed and opened the box. The laughter died off immediately and she felt her jaw drop. There, nestled in the soft black box was a beautiful chain of white gold, and dangling from it was a dark, shining stone. "Michael!" she breathed, her fingers sweeping over the moonstone, its smooth surface feeling achingly familiar to her. Her eyes lifted to his and she couldn't help it...

She reached out quickly and hugged him to her, so fast that she caught him unawares. He managed to hug her back briefly and she pressed a kiss to his cheek, catching the corner of his mouth, before leaning her forehead against is. Her hands moved down and rested at his sides, bunching around his t-shirt. She was vaguely aware of him removing the necklace from the box and sliding her hair out of the way before fastening it around her neck.

The pendant fell cool and comforting against the hollow of her throat, the dark stone setting of her milky white skin nicely. His forehead was no longer touching hers, but he was close enough that she could smell his aftershave and feel his breath warm against her skin. "I--I just couldn't leave it there," he told her, his voice low and husky. "I thought of you...you should be wearing it..."

"Thank-you," she breathed, aware of how close they were, and how badly she wanted to stay right there. "It's beautiful."

He didn't blush, or look away, or lean in. He just raised a hand to brush a finger against her cheek, and then he left her to finish her packing.

She sat on the bed, her packing forgotten and feeling very confused. She realized that she hadn't thought about Alex or Jesse for a while now, and it didn't sadden her the way it would have in the past. Isabel touched the stone at her neck and smiled softly.

--

There was silence in the van as the seven of them continued to drive west, into the countryside and further and further away from New York City. Lonnie and Rath had been shocked to see Ava, and after a minute of stunned silence Lonnie had hurried to give her a hug. Michael knew that Ava was wary, but she hugged back with a smile, clearly glad to have her family back. No matter what they'd done to her or Zan in the past. They had a common goal now. Michael didn't pretend to understand that kind of forgiveness, but he did envy it a bit. Rath and Ava both seemed to be capable of something that he couldn't fathom, despite what they'd been through in the past; he didn't know if that made them seem more human or him less so.

"We need to stop somewhere for the night," Isabel finally said. "We're all too tired to keep going tonight." They pulled over to a small motel and got three rooms. After saying goodnight to the others Michael followed Isabel and Ava into their room. It had been silently agreed upon that he should stay with them--from all parties.

Ava collapsed quickly onto her and Isabel's bed, exhausted from not only her workday, but the kidnapping and escape as well. Michael smiled softly when Isabel removed the other girl's shoes and covered her up. They both settled onto the couch in the room and she sighed. "And we run again," she said dully. Michael's shoulder bumped hers a little as he shrugged.

"We don't have a lot of options Isabel," he pointed out. "Nicholas will find us if we stay home."

"What would you do if we could go home?" she asked him, a far off smile on her face. "Back to Roswell I mean."

Michael considered it, _really_ considered it. "Galaxy burger with Saturn rings," he said finally. She snorted at that.

"Somehow I'm unsurprised," she teased, rolling her eyes.

"Well, what would you do?"

"I'd go see my parents," she told him quickly. "I miss them...and Sheriff Valenti."

Michael patted her knee. "Maybe next lifetime," he offered quietly. "We'll be able to do all of the things that we can't do this time around."

"Yeah, maybe," she echoed, clearly not believing it anymore than he did.

The muffled sound of voices arguing made its way through the wall then. "What do you think they're arguing about?" Isabel asked. His gaze fell on Ava, fast asleep on the bed.

"I think it's getting harder and harder for Liz to deal with Queenie over there," Michael said. "It's taking its toll."

"It's going to get a lot worse," Isabel added quietly. "Once we start training to fight off Nicholas's skins...it's going to get harder for her--for all of us."

"Do you think we'll ever go to Antar?" Michael asked, voicing the question for the first time in several years.

"Do you want to?" she asked him timidly. "Because the last time we had a ride you didn't take it."

"I've always thought about it," he admitted. "But lately, since we've been remembering it, I feel more connected to it now. It's not just some place in a story, or a dream, and if we were sent her so that we could survive and save them from Khivar then I feel that we owe them to try."

Isabel didn't seem to have anything to say to that, she just looked like she was thinking it over. "I think that we'll eventually find a way," she told him finally. "They wouldn't send us down here without a back-up plan for getting home--we just haven't remembered it yet."

Michael nodded and then turned on the tv. They settled back to watch an old movie and both fell asleep before the opening credits ended.

--

Once they reached the Pennsylvania state line the van pulled off of the interstate. They found an old abandoned box factory on the outskirts of a small town and set up there. Max wanted to hide out for a few days to regroup and spend some time practicing with their powers, in case it came time to fight. No one argued.

"It's dirty," Isabel declared distastefully, wrinkling her nose and looking around. A dusty conveyor belt ran through the centre of a very large room, and in one corner a massive pile of bricks were stacked where a part of a wall had caved in. But they were sheltered from the outside world, and there were a couple of offices that could be converted into places to sleep, and the bathrooms seemed to be working, though there was no shower.

Ava found an old supply cupboard and pulled out a large broom. She brushed the cobwebs off of it and handed it to Liz, before grabbing another for herself. Michael sighed and went over to help them. "Let's bring in the bags," Max said to the others. Rath, Lonnie and Isabel followed him out to the van and started unloading it.

"Shouldn't we be hiding it?" Isabel asked him. "Can't you see it from the road?"

"We will," Max assured her. "But we need to go into town and pick up some supplies first."

"I'll go," Rath volunteered. Max nodded and her and Rath set out. Isabel and Lonnie carried the last of the bags in.

"Where's Max?" Ava asked them when they came in alone.

"Went into town with Rath," Lonnie told her, dropping the last bags with a grunt. "So...now what?"

"I guess we start training," Liz told them. "Why don't we decide what we need to work on first? I think we should--"

"Rath was Army General on Antar," Lonnie cut her off. "He trained thousands of men. _He_ should be in charge of this...him and Michael that is." Liz looked affronted but nodded her head sharply and bit her tongue, a little afraid of the Isabel look-alike.

Michael shifted a bit uncomfortably. "Come on then soldier," Lonnie drawled, eyeing him a little flirtatiously. "Where do you want me?" Michael met he gaze blandly for a moment and then turned to Isabel, looking for..._encouragement_, probably. She smiled at him, _knowing_ that he could do it; he'd commanded the most powerful army in an entire star system. He could lead them now as well. He smiled back.

--

By the time Rath and Max got back, arms laden with bags from Wal-Mart, everyone else was at work training. Liz was working on blasting the bricks into gravel, though her powers were clearly not as strong as they had once been, Isabel and Lonnie sat on different ends of the conveyor belt, eyes closed and trying to breach each other's thoughts; they were Michael's big plan for staying in constant communication.

They found Michael and Ava standing a ways away from the others in deep concentration. "You can do this," Michael told her. "Just close your eyes and think about it...concentrate hard."

Max watched as Ava braced herself. The temperature in the room grew quickly, a rush of heat taking over them all, and Max was sure that he saw a flicker of flame for a second before it went out. Ava sighed in defeat. "It's okay," Michael told her, clapping a hand on her shoulder and squeezing reassuringly. "That's a good try, you'll get it yet. See what you can do with the mind warping, okay? We'll try to work up to holding it for a half an hour."

"Okay," she looked hesitant and Michael smiled kindly.

"You're doing great Ava," he assured her. Ava nodded and, seemingly invigorated by his praise, sat down on the conveyor belt and closed her eyes in concentration. A patch of flowers suddenly appeared against a far wall, seemingly growing out of the cement floor, and they knew that it was just Ava's mind warp.

Michael noticed them come in. "How was town?" he asked. "Did you get any Snapple?" Rath shoved him a bag and wandered over to where Liz was still trying to blast bricks. She was looking pretty frustrated.

"You're not generating much power," he told her. "You've go to start focusing more on your target."

"I _am_ focusing!" Liz snapped, obviously annoyed and not just with his interference...

"Yeah, you're looking at it, he nodded and stood beside her mimicking her pose. "But you've got to focus your energy, not just your vision. Like, you have to concentrate on your mark and feel your powers pool into your hand. Blasting is something that we do naturally when we're angry, or scared--it's an emotional thing, okay? So if you're trying to blast you need to channel those emotions to make it effective, otherwise you'll just crack the brick. Imagine that your mark is making you mad, _really_ mad, and that you'd like nothing more than to destroy it. Let that energy pool until you can't hold it in, and then..." He followed that up by sending a blast at his mark -- one of the bricks--turning it into not rubble. "Got it? Okay now you give it a try."

Liz sighed and held up a hand, focusing on her mark. She stared hard at her brick and Max watched, wondering _what_ she was imagining. The brick shattered into several pieces, the crack echoing through the room . Rath clapped her on the shoulder with a grin and she smiled at him. "Good job," he told her proudly. Then he pointed at another brick. "Now do it again."

"We've been training," Michael told Max with a little shrug. "Trying to get our powers under control...we though it should be helpful."

"Good plan," Max agreed. Michael seemed to have everything under control, and Max realized that he and Rath were probably genetically coded to be naturals at training an army. They'd led his army after all. So... "What do you want me to do?"

Max was already good at healing, and blasting was good for Liz to practice to get her powers under control, but a little unnecessary for the man that had the powers of a King. Michael sighed. "I'm not sure man," he admitted. "Because we're not sure what other abilities you have yet, you know? I was going to work with Rath though on shifting our bodies--like that time in the white room. Nasedo taught me, so I figured he probably hasn't done it before. You up for trying that?"

"Absolutely," Max nodded, curious to see what he could do. Michael called Rath over and they all took a seat on the newly swept floor.

--

"Okay the Pizza Hut closes at ten," Ava announced, switching her phone off and setting it on the desk in the office they were in. "I guess I'll go run and pick something up now then, before they close."

"You can't go alone," Max told her seriously. "Someone should--"

"I'll go with her," Lonnie said, climbing to her feet.

"Fine," Max nodded. "Be careful." Isabel looked up from her atlas to see Ava give him a small smile and nod before leaving.

The remaining five sat around the desk and returned their attention to the atlas laying there. "We could go north," Isabel suggested. "Somewhere in the middle of nowhere--where no one would even want to look."

"Should we maybe consider splitting up?" Liz asked. "That way they can't get all of us at once?"

"We can't split up," Isabel shook her head. "Because we're most powerful when the Royal Four is together."

"No one gets left behind," Michael and Rath said simultaneously, and then rolled their eyes. Isabel smiled softly.

"We stay together," Max agreed with certainty. "We still don't know exactly what we can do, but we're certain that they intended us to all be together when we did it...there's probably a reason for that."

"I think we should go to the Granolith," Rath suggested, tapping the map decidedly. "I just get this feeling that we _need_ it."

"So do I," Michael nodded in agreement. "It's important to Antar and the star system, and I know that there's a lot more to it than we can remember."

"Tess used the Granolith to get back once already," Liz reminded them. "We don't know that it can do a_nything_ now?"

"Max?" Isabel asked him, looking for his opinion.

"I don't want to put anyone in Roswell in danger," Max sighed. "But I also think that it would be a good idea to stick close to the Granolith right now. If we go back no one can know that we're there. I trust your instincts," he said to Michael and Rath seriously. "But I think it's fair if we hold a vote...I won't be responsible for putting all of our lives on the line by making this choice for us."

"We'll vote then," Isabel nodded in agreement to the group. "Once Ava and Lonnie get back."

Rath raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Vote? Really?" he queried.

"What, you guys never--"

"No," he shook his head and averted his eyes a little. "Zan was King, so...anyway, what should we do in the meantime?"

They all fell silent at the abrupt change in topics, but finally Isabel ventured an idea. "We haven't really got a chance to work on our memory retrieval in a few days," she pointed out. "I wouldn't mind working on that...if you're up for it?"

Max and Rath looked skeptical, neither of them really having their "mate" there...they'd have to work together. "I think it's a good idea," Liz admitted. "We don't really know what Nicholas is capable of, so if any of you can remember anything, it could really help." Rath and Max still both looked uncomfortable.

"Maybe," Isabel suggested gently. "Would it be better if I work with Rath, and Michael goes with Max?" Rath shrugged but Max looked at Michael cautiously, judging his reaction. Michael frowned and took a small step towards her.

"He might remember something different," Liz pointed out to Michael helpfully. "It's worth a try."

Michael looked a little hurt but seemed to think himself outvoted. "Whatever," he said gruffly and then walked out of the office noisily, bumping Rath's shoulder roughly as he went. Rath bit his tongue at the display and Max sighed and then followed after Michael.

"What about you?" Rath asked Liz. She smiled slightly.

"I'll start packing out stuff up," she told them. "If we're going to leave in the morning we'll want to be ready to go."

Rath and Isabel followed her out as well and they took up a spot on they conveyor belt several feet away from Max and Michael. "Ready?" she asked him. When he nodded she closed her eyes and then pressed her palms to his. Nothing happened at first and she thought that he might be holding back. Isabel willed herself to relax and open herself to the flashes...

_...the Earth rushing up to meet the falling ship...Rath pushing through the pod membranes and emerging into the sewers, where Lonnie looked up, her eyes wide and scared...Rath boosting Ava up onto a ladder...Rath sneaking into a dirty movie with a twelve-year-old Zan...Rath kissing Lonnie...the first time Rath and Lonnie made love, his hands shaking slightly but his smile genuine...Rath forcing a truck to run down Zan--_

Isabel broke away from him with a jerk, her gasp attracting the concerned looks from everyone in the room. Rath frowned. "What is it?" he demanded, actually eager. "What did you see?"

Isabel hesitated. "I--," she wondered it she should tell them or not. "Nothing," she decided that it wouldn't help anything to tell; they all knew that Rath and Lonnie played a role in Zan's death, but there was a bigger concern now. Besides, if Rath knew that she'd seen it he might try to hold back, and then they wouldn't learn anything. Also, if she were to be completely honest, Isabel wasn't all that comfortable judging others for their betrayals these days--not when she still didn't know all of what _she'd_ done. "Sorry, let's do it again."

Rath nodded and grasped her hands again. This time she saw flashes of his life on Earth again, of him and Lonnie watching tv in a comfortable silence, of him giving her a moonstone necklace very similar to hers, of Lonnie crying and him promising to love her no matter what. But she also saw...

_...Rath and Zan in conference in the Throne Room in the palace...a shining moonstone and Rath and Vilandra's first kiss...the tall, looming form of the Granolith...a field of fallen soldiers and burning grass...Ava's bloodied and lifeless body draped across her throne...Zan breaking down into sobs over his wife's corpse...Rath and Vilandra dancing in the rain...a child, his child, with its mothers' eyes...Rath, beaten and broken, pulling himself to his feet to move to his dead wife's side..._

This time when Isabel pulled away she did so with a sob. The first thing she recalled seeing when she opened her eyes was that familiar gaze, and she pulled him into an embrace unthinkingly. He patted her shoulder awkwardly in response to her sobs. "Hey," he stuttered a little. "It's...it's okay."

She bulled back a bit and looked at him in confusion, not understanding why he was so...unhelpful. Then it hit her, so obvious and yet, in her shaken state, she'd missed it. They _were_ identical but he still wasn't--

"Isabel?" Michael's familiar voice asked from right beside her, his hand falling on her elbow. She turned her gaze to him quickly, wiping the tears off of her face in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," she told them all, shooting Rath a sheepish look. "I just...I saw something new."

"What?" Max asked, his eagerness palpable. Isabel took a deep breath.

"Some of what we've already seen," she told them shakily. "But there was a battlefield, full of bodies--dead soldiers. Zan found Ava murdered, and Rath was hurt, and Vilandra was dead." She stopped then when she felt the tear tracks start to trickle softly down her cheeks. She didn't now how to tell them about the baby...

Liz seemed to sense that there was something else. "What is it Isabel?" she asked gently, clearly fearing the answer.

"The baby," Isabel admitted, looking at Rath first and then at Michael. "The one from the dreams...I--I think he was _ours_; he was _real_." Michael and Rath looked oddly unsurprised, as if they knew it to be true. Just as she did, she supposed. Finally, once the tears had subsided a bit, Isabel turned to Rath. "What did you see?" she asked him.

He shrugged. "Not much you haven't told us about already," he said. "Except, just before you pulled away...I think it rained at our wedding." He colored a little under Michael's glare. "I --I saw us dancing in the rain. I think it was the wedding."

"It wasn't _your_ wedding," Michael told him shortly and everyone else shifted uncomfortably, expecting a retaliation from Rath. He surprised them though, and nodded in agreement--Michael's mentality seemed to make sense to him.

"Rath and Vilandra's wedding," Rath corrected himself and the rest of the group relaxed a bit.

When Lonnie and Ava returned, arms laden with pizza and drinks, Rath was working with Max. Isabel and Michael were just sitting together quietly, thinking about another life.

"What's up?" Lonnie asked, setting the pizzas down. Rath abandoned his place beside Max and hurried over, pulling her into a quick but tight hug and pressing a kiss to her lips. Lonnie looked floored but hugged him back.

Ava sat her drink bottles down and looked at Max in concern. "What happened?" she asked.

Max stared at her intensely for a minute before shaking his head and offering a smile. "It can wait," he assured her. "What did you get? I'd kill for a slice of Hawaiian."

Ava smiled back.

--

"I've got a bad feeling," Lonnie shivered in the dark office they were using as a bedroom. Her voice was low, mindful of the others in the building, even though the closed door muffled almost every noise anyway. She looked at Rath seriously, her eyes a little wild with fear and desperation. "Something's coming for us...I _feel_ it."

Rath frowned and, abandoning his backpack on the desk, came to sit with her on the blanket on the floor. He set himself down cross-legged in front of her, mirroring her pose. "What is it?" he asked, his voice lower, huskier than normal. It was fear. "How do you know?"

"I just...it feels _familiar_," she told him. "Something is about to happen to us--all of us. I don't know if we'll make it--"

"_We_ will_ always_ make it," he told her seriously and grabbed her hands in his. "No matter what."

"Maybe it's what we deserve," she whispered brokenly. "For all of the things we've done, the things that I've done...for my brother, for me trying to get out of here, for how we left Ava."

Rath looked down at their clasped hands. "We've done wrong," he agreed. "And we'll never really break even for what happened to Zan, but maybe we move on from it. Zan was a lousy king Lonnie; he ruled the three of us how _he_ wanted, and we never got a say. Now I'm not saying that he deserved it, and I'm r_eally_ not saying that I don't feel bad--I do. Everyday. But we're starting a new life now, okay--you and me. And Max and his crew want us to come with, so maybe that's how we make up for Zan. We help _them_, and we go to Roswell."

"And what if I'm right?" she asked fearfully. "What if something happens?"

"Then it will happen to both of us," he assured her. "You _and_ me, Lonnie...always. I'll never leave you and I'll always stand with you. No matter what...you're still my whole world."

She started to cry then, and action he felt like he'd never really get used to. Rath cupped her cheeks in his hands and wiped the tear tracks with his thumbs. She leaned into his touch and then moved her face closer to his. Their foreheads touched and he closed his eyes, feeling her eyelashes wet against his cheeks and her breath warm on his skin. "I love you," she whispered against his lips.

For the first time in almost ten years Rath's mind was filled with flashes of her memories when they kissed. He knew instinctively that she was letting it happen, that she had held back before (perhaps he'd always known, deep down), and immediately opened his mind to her, knowing that she would see his memories of her. From all of their lives. His hands tangled into her hair and she climbed onto his lap.

Lonnie's shirt was off and discarded quickly, her hands working on his belt even as he allowed his to slide over the smooth span of her bare back. Her lips tasted like salt from the tears, and the ever-present underlying flavor of raspberries.

_...their protector telling them that they were destined for each other...a rough, jagged heart carved into a cement wall...first kiss...first I Love You...first time...second time...countless times..._

Rath moved over her slowly, beads of sweat sliding a curving course down the muscles of his back. She lifted her hips to meet his, her arms wrapping tighter around him and her lips meeting his again and again, matching his slow, steady rhythm.

_...moonstone necklaces...a grand ballroom...a magnificent cathedral...dancing in the rain...the Royal Four...Rath holding their son...Vilandra running across a field of golden wheat...their last kiss...Rath reaching for his wife's hand as he let darkness overtake him..._

She gasped in realization as they both climaxed and he looked down at her in wonder. She smiled at him, full of hope and joy. "I remember!" she told him, pressing happy kisses to his face--all over his face. "I remember _you_! All of it--the wedding, the baby--did you see it too?"

He nodded. "Luca," he replied with a smile. "His name was Luca. He had your eyes."

They both laughed then; happy blissful laughs, the sounds of which hadn't escaped their lips in ages. They were content, and happy, and spent, as they lay together under their blanket, lost in their own sanctuary, bodies humming in the afterglow.

Ten minutes later, when the foundation shook with the force of the Skin's army, they were ripped violently from that sanctuary; thrust roughly and harshly back into the world.

--

TBC...


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven: War**

A/N: It's been a very looooong time since I updated, and I have two very good excuses for that: 1, I HAD this chapter written out, but then I lost it when I had to get a new computer because my old one, and all of its files, fried. And 2, I'm back in school this year, and it's a very intense program, so I really just don't have as much spare time to write epic fanfics like I used to. Sorry. But I hope you like this chapter anyways. Thanks so much to everyone for the awesome reviews, I appreciate it so much and you inspire me to keep it going!. xoxo

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* * *

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_Thousands of subjects gathered in the palace courtyard, waiting to see their Princess and her new husband. An awed hush settled over the crowd as King Zan and his Queen stepped out onto the grand balcony. Zan addressed his subjects with a broad smile, his elation for his sister palpable and comforting._

_"Good people of Antar, I present to you now High General Vanguard Rath, and Princess Vilandra of Antar, House of Zor," he announced. The crowd below cheered and the couple stepped out._

_Looks of envy were common in the crowd as they took in the couple. The Princess was beautiful on any given day, but in her shining gown, with her long hair in delicate ringlets, and her engagement charm resting gracefully against the hollow of her throat, she was something else entirely. There was no known word to describe her. _

_The General was always a handsome man, but his position was a serious one and the people had never seen him with such an air of happiness before. His smile shone brightly and his eyes sparkled._

_Even when the heavens opened above them the couple did not frown. They laughed and began to dance together, a soft tune echoing out from the ballroom. The King and his people watched happily._

_

* * *

_

The world around him seemed to implode on their hideaway. All thoughts of the tense silence between himself and his wife, of the unspoken attraction between himself and Ava, of his doubts at being able to lead...all were banished from his mind the moment that _they_ came.

The ground shook with the force of the blast emitted by Nicholas and his army. The North wall of the warehouse was to reduced to rubble by the skin General. Nicholas and his men descended on Max's people in full uniform, ready to go to war.

The dust and smoke hadn't yet cleared when Max found himself climbing to his feet, pulling a terrified Liz to her feet as well. "Get to the van!" he told her, before hurrying out of their office in front of her to shield her from the army's path.

He could hear cries coming from the other rooms and knew that Michael would be coming soon. He needed his help.

* * *

Isabel was sleeping when they came; a light, restless sleep that was continually plagued by visions of the memories she'd seen in Rath's mind. Yet, when the attack came she found her mind and body slow to become alert, bogged down in the hazy surreality of "almost asleep". The blast of the North wall crumbling was loud, Earth-shattering even, but Isabel's head filled only with the sound of Lonnie's mental scream. Ava's scream pierced through the night next, coming from the room next door, and Isabel finally found herself flying to her feet.

She'd slept in her clothes, for which she was thankful now, and grabbed her backpack in her hand swiftly. She abandoned her blankets and crouched low in the doorway, peering out intently to see if the way was clear. She was vaguely aware of her hands shaking uncontrollably, for she was much more preoccupied in trying to decide her next move. "Get to the van!" she heard her brother cry, and echoed the order mentally to Lonnie. She hoped that she got it.

A series of yells echoed in from the floor below, where Nicholas and his men were storming the warehouse.

"Find them!" a strange man's voice bellowed, but Isabel knew that it was him. "They're here somewhere, the sensor led us here! Take them alive if possible!"

She knew that she had to move, and so she slipped out of her office, her hand up protectively in front of herself in case she needed to blast her way out. She heard heavy footsteps on the main staircase leading to the top level, and knew that the army was coming from that way. There was another staircase on the South wall, and she headed that way.

* * *

Ava could feel tears streaming down her face, mixing with the dust and probably caking to her skin. She didn't care. She crouched in the doorway and took a couple of deep breaths. She didn't know what to do.

As if reading her mind, the door across the hall from her opened, and Rath and Lonnie poured out, pulling their shirts on as they did. Rath caught her gaze and reached a hand out to her, grabbing her arm and pulling her along. "Get to the van!" he told her sharply, looking more afraid then she'd ever seen him. She didn't need to be told twice and took off towards the South staircase, away from Nicholas and his men.

They met Isabel in the hall.

"Have you seen Max and Michael?" she asked them, running beside them towards the stairs. Ava felt sick.

* * *

Michael had always been able to pack and leave in a hurry, it was a skill he learned while he was 10 years old. So when Nicholas's army came, he was the first one up and ready. He could hear the others crying out, and knew they were headed towards the van. He was in a different hallway from theirs, with Max and Liz, and ran hard to intersect them.

He'd been waiting for an attack, he figured that Rath probably had been too, since they'd left the city. Michael had been remembering more, and though he wasn't completely up to speed on his life on Antar, he did remember the feeling that he'd had for Nicholas. Fear.

General Rath was a brave and intelligent man, Michael knew that, but no intelligent man ever lived without fear. And Rath had feared Nicholas, more than he'd ever feared Khivar, because Nicholas was cunning, ruthless, and crazy. Seriously, insane. Michael was smart enough to know how dangerous that combination was, and he'd been ready for a fight for a while now.

But that didn't mean that he wanted the others to get stuck in one...so as he rounded the last corner of his hallway, lungs burning from the sudden exertion, and collided with Lonnie he couldn't help the sigh of relief that slipped from his lips. He took a quick inventory of his companions, and grabbed Isabel's hand, pulling her along anxiously.

"Where's Maxwell?" he demanded over the noise of soldiers blasting apart walls and timbres.

"Here!" Max came running back up the staircase, beckoning to them hurriedly. "Liz is getting the van, let's go!"

The six of them clamored down the stairs and spilled out into one of the lower offices. A shout of recognition could be heard from behind them and Michael spun around, sending an energy blast into the group of approaching soldiers behind them.

The ground shook with the impact and pieces of the wall began to crumble to the ground. They grabbed hold of each other to steady themselves.

Then gunshots echoed through the room, and they all dropped to the ground.

* * *

Lonnie ignored the fact that her legs were shaking, because even though she was cowered on the ground with the others, Rath's arm shielding her from bullets, she didn't want to admit that she was scared. The others were though, she could feel the fear radiating off of them in waves. In her mind she could hear Isabel anxious thoughts, and Rath's hands shook ever so slightly in tandem with his breath.

She managed to lift her head just enough to take in the sight of them, her family, terrified and trapped. "Lonnie!" Rath's cry of shock could be heard over the gun shots, and he tried to grab her arm and pull her back to the floor.

But she ignored it and shook his hand off, getting to her feet and staring down the approaching soldiers. "Get down!"

The six firing soldiers held their guns up, but seized firing in surprise. She held their gazes and could see them staring back in confusion, obviously not comfortable shooting any of them head on, especially not their former Princess. Lonnie didn't care what they felt though.

'You won't let them do this again,' she promised herself mentally. 'I can't see it another time.' The anger that she felt when she remembered the last time, the smell of smoke and blood on a burning and open field, consumed her.

She was hit with a flash. _A field of fallen soldiers and burning grass...Ava's bloodied and lifeless body draped across her throne...Zan breaking down into sobs over his wife's corpse...Rath and Vilandra dancing in the rain...a child, his child, with its mothers' eyes...Rath, beaten and broken, pulling himself to his feet to move to his dead wife's side..._

Rath's concerned cry, his hand gripping pleadingly at hers, broke her from the flash. 'They won't go through it again,' she promised.

Lonnie filled with rage; burning red and hot, like an all-encompassing fire building up and spilling forth. Her cry of anger mixed with those of the people around her, and in a flash the soldiers were gone, and the air was filled with dust...pieces of soldiers, of skins.

The aliens all hesitated for a moment, unsure what to say to her, and Rath's grip on her hand lessened, but did not release completely. Isabel looked oddly unsurprised.

"L-Let's go," Max finally said, his voice shaky but firm. The others climbed to their feet and followed him. "Ava we could use a diversion."

Ava nodded and closed her eyes in concentration. Nothing happened. "Something's wrong," she told them. "I can't..."

"He has one of those devices," Michael concluded, attempting to aim a blast at a nearby pile of rubble and sighing in defeat when nothing happened.

"Just run," Rath barked. They all started moving again.

They reached the south door and Max kicked it open, pushing Ava and Isabel through. Just as Michael was about to follow another gunshot rang out. Michael cried out in pain as the bullet tore through his shoulder. Isabel screamed too and they all ducked down again.

"Keep moving!" Michael barked at her, struggling to stay on his feet. Isabel and Ava both ignored him and reached out to help steady him.

"Leaving so soon?" his voice was different than she remembered, and the body was new, much more intimidating than the 14-year-old skin he had been in before. But Lonnie knew it was him, she would know that cold and calculating presence anywhere.

Nicholas.

"What do you want?" Max demanded, taking a step in front of Michael, Ava and Isabel.

"Who me?" Nicholas asked, waving his gun around and walking closer. "All _I_ want is to get off of this god forsaken planet. But _Khivar_ wants you, all of you, back on Antar."

"You shot him," Max snapped, gesturing to where Michael was now loosing a lot of blood.

"He didn't specify that you need to be alive," Nicholas shrugged and then turned his gaze to Lonnie. "Hey Lon...you look good."

Lonnie frowned. "I see you stole yourself a new body," she said snarkily. "It is an improvement."

"That's enough chit-chat," Nicholas rolled his eyes. "I was obligated to offer you a ride home to Khivar, but that was before you killed six of my men."

"They shot at me," Lonnie told him cheekily.

"Did they?" Nicholas asked. Then, to everyone's surprise, he lifted his gun again and fired.

Lonnie hit the ground in a split second, chocking on the mouthful of blood that bubbled up from the hole in her chest.

* * *

Rath was only vaguely aware of the scream that came from Ava's lips, and he collapsed to the ground beside her. He held a hand over the bullet hole and tried to apply pressure, but his fingers slid over the blood, staining his skin and making it impossible to grip.

"Lonnie?" he cried, pushing her hair out of her face and catching her gaze. She was pale as snow, except for the line of red that trickled from her lips. Rath felt as if time had slowed down, as if the world had stopped turning, like he was holding his breath under water. Faced with the end result that he knew was coming, Rath wanted to disappear. But she was there, right there, her blood warm and coating his hands, and he knew that he couldn't run away from it.

Her gaze held his and he was hit with a flash, so powerful that he stopped...everything.

And when it was over he looked down again and she wasn't breathing. "Lon?" he whispered brokenly, voice cracking through tear-blurred vision. "Lon? Lonnie?" He shook her shoulders carefully. When she didn't reply he shook the harder. "Lonnie! Lonnie! Wake up!"

He was having trouble breathing now, not even noticing the others in the room, or the skin behind him with the gun and the blank stare. She still didn't move though. Rath leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers. "Lonnie?" he whispered, pressing his eyes closed. "Wake up. Please...baby, please wake up."

She didn't answer.

He pressed a kiss to her lips quickly, tasting blood but ignoring it. "Lonnie?" her body felt solid and warm, so he knew that even though this was his worst nightmare, he was actually awake. "Please babe...I love you. Please just wake up!"

Suddenly his head shot up, because he was positive that he heard her sob. But he realized soon enough that it was just Isabel, her tear streaked face staring down at them with a mixture of fear, sorrow, and awe. Rath couldn't look at her, couldn't see his girls face on someone else right now, so he turned to Max instead.

"Help her!" he demanded. "Quick, she needs your help!"

Max didn't say anything, he just opened and closed his mouth wordlessly. He wanted to do something, Rath could see it.

"Please," Rath begged, all sense of pride gone. He just wanted Lonnie back.

"I-I can't," Max shook his head. "My powers...the device...I can't use them."

Rath turned to Nicholas then, his shoulders shaking with an anger and grief that he'd never felt before. Something that the human side in him couldn't fathom, and the alien side didn't remember.

"Now we're even," Nicholas said cooly, his sadistic smile looking forced even as his gaze fell on Lonnie's body.

Before he knew what was happening, Rath found himself flying at the skin. He caught Nicholas off guard and knocked the gun from his hand. And then he punched him. Hard. And sent him flying into a pile of debris.

More than anything Rath wished he had his powers now, had a way to channel the raw, unbridled rage that was pulsing through his veins. Nicholas didn't stir, and Rath knew that he'd knocked him unconscious.

For a moment none of them stirred at all. Then Max found his voice again. "Let's go," he bent down over Lonnie. "If we get her out of here we might still be able to..." his voice trailed off then but they all knew what he was saying.

Rath bent down and lifted Lonnie into his arms, shaking off Max's attempts to help. He ignored the gaping wound in his girl's chest, the stickiness of the drying blood on his own shirt, and the trembling in his hands.

"What about him?" Isabel asked, her eye's trailing over to Nicholas' prone body. Max hesitated.

"If we want to help Lonnie we can't wait," he concluded.

Ava and Isabel helped Michael out to the van and Max brought up the rear.

Rath felt as if he were still asleep, and desperately wanted to wake up.

* * *

Isabel couldn't even describe the feeling of relief that hit her when she pulled open the van door and they piled in. Liz looked terrified when she saw them.

"Oh my god!" she cried when Ava and Isabel helped Michael into the van. He groaned uncomfortably and laid back on one of the benches.

Then Rath came in holding Lonnie, covered in blood. "I-is she..." Liz couldn't finish the question and Isabel found herself averting her eyes.

"Drive!" Max ordered, climbing in last and slamming the door behind them. Liz nodded and the van was moving in seconds. Rath laid Lonnie down on the other bench and proceeded to pull the neckline of her shredded clothing down, so that Max could see the damage to her chest. Max turned to Michael. "Can you..."

"I can wait," he assured Max with a short nod, though he looked pained to move at all. "Help her!"

They all watched while Max reached out and pressed a hand to Lonnie's chest. He closed his eyes in concentration, his palm glowing white while rays of his power pulsed through the van. Isabel didn't breathe, she just waited.

Nothing happened.

"Why isn't she waking up?" Ava finally demanded.

"I-I don't know," Max's hands shook but he kept trying anyway. Isabel tried to call her twin mentally, but she got nothing. Rath looked lost, and it broke Isabel's heart. She reached out and grabbed Michael's hand, squeezing it tightly in hers.

Still nothing happened.

"Max..."

He sighed heavily and sat back, pushing his hair out of his eyes and leaving a streak of red there. "I can't do it," he admitted dejectedly. Max turned to Rath and looked at him seriously. "I can't bring her back...it's too late. I-"

"No!" Rath pushed him away and Max stumbled backwards. "Lonnie?" he whispered in her ear. "Please baby, wake up. Please wake up!"

Isabel felt tears streaming down her face and could hear Ava sobbing beside her. She sat down on the floor beside Michael's bench, unable to say anything. Max collapsed beside her and Michael clapped a hand down on his shoulder. Isabel leaned against her brother, her hand still intertwined with Michael's, and watched in silence while Rath tried in vain to wake Lonnie up.

"I'm sorry," Max's voice cut through the van, small and sorrowful, and they all looked up to see the unshed tears in his eyes.

Rath was covered, clothes soaked, in drying blood; dark red and sticky. He looked...helpless.

"But she's..." he didn't seem to have the words and just stared blankly back at them. "She's my whole world..."

Ava took a few tentative steps towards him, not bothering to wipe away the tears on her cheeks. Rath noticed and looked up at her pitifully from his spot on the floor. "Avy..." she touched his cheek sadly and he seemed to wilt before their eyes.

Isabel had never heard anyone sob the way that he did, gut-wrenching and heart-breaking while he reached out and hugged Ava tightly. She cried openly too, her fingers stroking his hair comfortingly.

Watching them, Isabel thought of when she'd lost Alex and the pain that she'd felt. She remembered what it was like to have to leave Jesse behind. She remembered the constant aching that she felt as a child every night before they found Michael. And she realized now, watching a man like Rath cry in front of all of them, that as painful as those things were, she had never felt loss like that. The kind where your whole world seems to have fallen out from under you, and you honestly don't know if it's worth staying behind by yourself anymore.

He was just broken, and as awful as she felt for him, she was so very glad that it wasn't her.

* * *

They splurged on a hotel room that night, because Michael needed somewhere to recover, and Rath just needed some time away from the others. They worried what Rath might do, once the shock wore off, and so Ava agreed to stay with him. Even more worrisome was that he didn't fight it, he didn't do anything. He just...was. They didn't know what to do with him.

"Do you need another pillow?" Isabel asked, already trying to wedge another one behind him. Michael groaned but leaned forward obligingly, letting her fret over him.

"I'm fine Isabel," he tried to assure her. "Max fixed it, remember?"

"But you're still sore," she sighed, looking particularly frazzled. Michael shook his head in denial - a total lie by the way! - and then hissed in pain when she pointedly poked his shoulder. "See."

"I'll _be_ fine Isabel," he promised her and leaned back against the pillow mountain that she'd created for him. "Are _you_ okay?"

"Yes," she replied. He raised an eyebrow in question. "No, not really," she admitted, sitting on the edge of her bed. "I just...you saw him today Michael. I'm worried about him. He's not really stable to begin with, but now..."

"It's gonna be okay," Michael told her. "He's gonna pull through this, and we're gonna find a way to stop Nicholas."

Isabel stared back at him quietly, clearly not believing him. They were silent for a few minutes, then she wandered over to the TV and grabbed the remote control.

"Family Guy?" she asked, sliding onto the bed beside him. Michael nodded and gave her a small smile. She turned the TV on and found a station. "Michael?"

"Yeah?"

She turned and looked at him seriously. "If you ever go and get yourself shot again I'll kill you," she told him, and Michael was pretty sure that she wasn't kidding. He smiled.

"Okay."

"Okay?" she questioned. When he nodded she smiled in relief and snuggled down into the pillow mountain, resting against his good arm.

Michael watched her out of the corner of his eye while she became engrossed in the show. He thought of Lonnie, and how it felt to see _her_ lying there, not breathing and in a pool of blood. A stranger with her face. It was unsettling.

He'd watched his twin, a bad-ass murderer, break down and weep in front of them because he'd just watched his girlfriend die. A rough, tough, hard-as-steel soldier like Rath could feel that, but Michael...he'd never felt loss like that. While he was grateful for _that_, he also realized that he'd never felt love like Rath had before either. For anyone.

Michael looked once again at Isabel, who was engrossed in the show, and realized that _that_ wasn't entirely true. He _had_ felt that once, but not in this life. He remembered loving her that much though, his Vilandra. Maybe it was the alien side of them, the stronger side; maybe it felt everything stronger? Rath was definitely more in touch with that side than he was...

He found himself staring at the wall between their room and the Dupes', wondering what was happening on the other side. "Are you okay?" Isabel's concerned voice suddenly jarred him out of his reverie. He looked down to see her staring back in concern, her eyes wide and worried.

Michael nodded in response, and luckily she believed him. Isabel settled back against him and he tried to watch the TV with her. Truth was, he didn't think he was okay. Sure, his shoulder was fine-or it would be in a few hours-but he was scared, and that was a feeling that Michael was still relatively new to. If not even Lonnie was safe from Nicholas then the rest of them had cause to worry.

Things were going to get worse, and he instinctively knew that they were going to loose more than just Lonnie. They still had a long way to go before they were safe.

Isabel was starting to drift asleep now, resting against his shoulder. Michael pressed a kiss to her temple and then closed his eyes.

* * *

Ava was not a stranger to fear, having lived much of her life afraid of the world around her, the world that she didn't really belong in. She'd spent a lot of time being afraid of Rath and Lonnie too, murdering fiends they had been. But they'd been different this time, they'd greeted her warmly and Rath hadn't threatened her once.

And now, as she stood warily in the doorway, watching him stare blankly at a wall from his position on the only chair in the room, she didn't see the man that she'd once been afraid of. She saw the boy that she knew her whole life: the one that used to watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade with her so she wouldn't be alone, who always stole extra cherries from the market carts because they were her favorites, and the one that had run up to her proudly when he'd been the first to develop powers. That was the Rath she saw now, broken, empty and lost, and it terrified her in a completely different way than he used to.

She'd convinced him to change into different clothes once they'd arrived, his old ones soaking in memories of her. His outfit was now devoid of blood stains, but he hadn't moved, or said anything, in over an hour now. Ava didn't know what else to do. It's not like they had been that close lately.

"Rath?" she asked him tentatively, taking a few steps closer. He didn't look up, didn't move, didn't even seem to hear her. "Rath?" she asked it louder this time, but her voice wasn't reaching him. "Soldier?"

He blinked to attention this time, his eyes searching her out, but he didn't speak. He stared back expectantly and she hesitated. "I'm going to go and get us something to eat," she said. "I'll be right back, okay?" He didn't say anything. "Will you be okay...for a little while?"

He nodded slightly and then went back to staring at the wall. Ava stifled the concerned sigh that wanted to escape and slipped quickly from the room, pocketing the key in her jeans.

She leaned against the closed door heavily, fighting back the tears. She felt sick about Lonnie, and her heart was breaking for Rath...and she physically ached from how much she missed Zan. It was all that she could do right then to make herself forget about the fact that Zan was gone because of what Rath and Lonnie had done. The pain she'd felt was so debilitating that she wouldn't wish it on anyone, not even on the man who'd caused it. So now, leaning against the door with the cool night air blowing against her cheeks, she cried for Rath and his loss. She would try to put the rest behind her.

She made her way to the little diner that was next door to their motel, and ordered burgers, fries, and cokes for her a Rath. Then she took a seat to wait for her food. After a few minutes she felt the hair on the back of her arms stand up, and the back of her neck tingled. Ava smile.

"Hi Max," she greeted him, before he even took a seat at the table.

"I didn't think you saw me come in," Max told her, slipping into the other side of the booth. She looked up with a small smile, a sad one though.

"I didn't," she answered. The unspoken words were that she _felt_ his presence as soon as he entered the diner, but she knew that it was probably best to not mention that. He knew anyway, deep down.

"How's Rath?" he asked in concern, toying with the edge of his room key.

"I don't know," she admitted. "He's hasn't talked since we got here...it's like he's not even there. I don't know what to do, or what to say to him. I'm scared for him...I'm sad for him."

Max's hand dropped the key and snaked across the table to touch hers in comfort. Ava gasped when the flash hit...

_...two suns high in the sky casting a warm glow onto a pool of purple water...Tess's young face, still entrapped in her pod chamber...bright blue eyes...little Liz Parker in the dress with the cupcakes...seeing Michael again...Tess in biology lab, kissing him on the table...Tess and him making love under the stars...Ava in a wedding gown, smiling..._

She was breathing heavily when she managed to pull her hand away, and Max ended up staring back at her in shock, his mouth open slightly. She wondered what he had seen. Did he see the wedding too?

Ava couldn't find words now, and all thoughts of Rath vanished from her head. Max continued to hold her gaze, his eyes burning into her.

"Order's up honey," the waitress appeared so suddenly that both Max and Ava jumped. She blinked sheepishly. "Hon?"

"Thanks," Ava turned her attention to the waitress, taking the offered bag of food. The waitress left them and she turned back to Max. "I should go...he might be hungry."

They both knew that he wouldn't be, but they were uneasy now, and so Max nodded in agreement. Deny, deny, deny.

* * *

The sun broke over the horizon, signaling the dawn of a new day...a new opportunity. Rath watched it rise higher and higher into the sky, from his position at the window of their room. The last rays of yellow finally stretched their way to the window sill, illuminating him against the cold, dark night. Lonnie was gone, and the rest of them were being hunted.

He knew now what he had to do.

TBC...


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Echos

_"That's enough chit-chat," Nicholas rolled his eyes. "I was obligated to offer you a ride home to Khivar, but that was before you killed six of my men."_

_"They shot at me," Lonnie told him cheekily. _

_"Did they?" Nicholas asked. Lonnie held his gaze defiantly, not about to back down. Not to a second rate lackey like him-_

_The sound of the shot firing was deafening to her ears, echoing off of the dilapidated walls around them. The noise made her wince, more than the pain of the bullet ripping its way through her flesh, her collarbone, her muscles. The metal hit her with such force that she was physically knocked backwards, the world around her moving in slow motion as she fell to the hard concrete._

_Lonnie barely registered the sound of Ava's scream, seemingly muted and far away from her, as she became increasingly aware of the warm, sticky substance seeping onto her shoulders, onto her chest. Blood began to gurgle its way up her throat, and she coughed against the sensation, tasting it spill forth from her lips, filling her mouth and making it impossible to suck in air._

_Then Rath was kneeling on the ground beside her, trying to hold his hands over the gaping hole in her chest, pushing on it, trying to hold the blood in. She felt them sliding uselessly in the slickness of the liquid, the ring on his finger catching on the ripped flesh as he did._

_Lonnie felt cold, and disjointed, as if she were struggling to wake from an unsettling dream. She was aware of people around her, though they seemed far away. There was no battlefield here, no red bodies littering the once green grass, but she knew that the outcome would be the same. The end result would be the same._

_When he touched her face, pushed the hair out of her eyes, she became aware of nothing but him. Just him. She forgot for a moment that she was about to die. She clearly heard him speak her name, his voice shaky and terrified, and she turned her gaze to meet his. Her heart tightened in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with the bullet wound, or the blood loss. She saw infinite swirls in his eyes, like the fleeting memories that she had of their solar system, of planets and stars...the whole universe._

_Lonnie knew that she was out of time, that it was her last chance to tell him everything that she wanted to. Everything that she knew he needed to hear from her. She could have told him, could have actually said good-bye; but instead, she told him in the one way that only he would understand. With the last of her energy she willed herself to open the connection, poured all of her energy into the flash, and showed him everything that she'd learned. Everything that she felt, and everything that she believed._

_It drained her energy, literally wiped her right out, but she made sure that the last thing he saw from her was how much she loved him. And how very sorry she was._

_And then she was gone._

_

* * *

_

Rath had dreams all day, the kind where he was actually awake and saw flashes, loosing periods of time. He didn't miss much. They drove all day, and finally stopped for the night in Marion, Illinois.

He saw memories, her memories. Relived them over and over in his head. And he came to a decision.

By the time they climbed out of the van in Marion, Rath had a plan.

* * *

Liz Parker was not happy. They were on the run again, people were dying, Nicholas and his army were trying to kill them, and her husband had been spending a lot of time looking at his ex-wife again. All in all it had been a rough week. She tried not to be too bitter as she watched her husband and Ava go into the motel to pay for their rooms, leaving her to struggle with the bags.

"Here," Rath made her jump a little, appearing beside her seemingly out of nowhere. He grabbed several of the bags and helped her unload. Liz gave him a small, grateful smile, feeling a mixture of unease and sympathy for him. It was actually the first words she'd heard him speak in over 24 hours.

"Thank-you," she replied timidly. He didn't reply, just stared back at her quietly, looking half lost, half pensive. "What?"

"You know where we're going, right Liz?" he finally asked her.

"Well we're going to Roswell..."

"No, where we're _really_ going," he insisted, glancing over to double check that Isabel and Michael hadn't yet returned from the convenience store. "Nicholas will be back, and his ride is _going_ to find us."

"You don't know that," she insisted weakly.

"Yes I do," he sounded so certain about it that Liz felt a sudden chill sweep over her. "Some of us will be on that ride."

"W-what do you mean some of us?" she demanded shakily, not liking the sound of that at all.

"Not all of us will make it to Antar," he clarified. Rath looked at her seriously, seemingly wanting to cushion the blow of his next words. "You won't be able to go, Liz. You've lost your powers, and humans can't survive on our home planet."

"We don't know that-"

"I do," he assured her gravely. "I'm seeing things much clearer these days. You won't be on that ride, but Max will. And so will Ava. It's our destiny...it's what we were planned for. They'll return to Antar, because it's been pre-ordained."

Liz didn't know what to say to him, didn't want to admit that he could be right, because she knew that none of them could prove that he was wrong. So she grabbed the last bag and slammed the van door shut.

Liz Parker marched past the punk dupe and into the office to join her husband, choosing to ignore both his words of warning and the feeling of dread in her stomach. He couldn't be right. He just couldn't.

* * *

Nicholas watched the passing scenery in silence, the four men making up his traveling guard mercifully leaving him alone. He was lost in his own thoughts, his own memories. He'd killed a girl, that wasn't really the issue; he'd killed many girls before. But this time, it was _her_. Vilandra. Their Princess, and the one person in the entire world that he would betray Khivar for.

Vilandra had been the first Royal Family member to truly make friends amongst the soldiers on Antar. She had attended their functions, learned their names, and met their families. She had laughed with them, and shared their sorrow when a companion fell, and had taken her role of Army Head much more seriously than the rest of her family ever had. Vilandra had had a sincere investment in how their army ran, and worked, and stayed in line. And she had wanted what was best for Antar. So much so that she had easily been swayed, easily been convinced into believing Khivar's stories of his vision for their planet.

She'd wanted compromise, had sought a peaceful solution to their problems, and Nicholas had been part of the plan to deceive her. He'd been raised to worship her, as they all had, and he'd allowed himself to participate in Khivar's violent revolution. He lived with that everyday, and for the most part was okay with it, because he'd supported the cause. He'd wanted the change. He truly did.

Nicholas hated Rath, hated the man that, though he was at least five years younger, had flown past Nicholas in rank and rose to High General in record time. Nicholas was powerful, more powerful than anyone in Khivar's Army; but Rath had been the most powerful Antarian for five generations. Nicholas hated him, hated everything that he had, everything that he'd been given. Power. A seat in the Royal Four. Privilege. Vilandra.

Rath got the hand of their beloved Princess, and both Nicholas and Khivar stewed in the jealousy and anger from it. Hadn't the man got enough already?

Nicholas had hated Rath, but he'd never wanted to hurt Vilandra. Now, as he watched the rolling fields of Kansas sweep by his window, the rhythmic thumping along the train tracks, he felt sick by what he'd done. He'd never wanted to kill her, but he had orders, and she'd willingly slaughtered his men. Vilandra had astounding abilities that came along with her ancestry, ones that were rarely displayed except for under periods of great stress. He knew that if Lonnie knew how to control them then she had developed her powers fully, and she thought that he was the enemy. Nicholas hadn't wanted to kill her, but she was dangerous, and the only person that Nicholas loved more than Vilandra was himself. He would not let her kill him. He had a mission. He had a purpose. He was going to intercept the rest of them in Roswell. He was going home.

* * *

They rode in relative silence, their lack of conversation making the long journey uncomfortable and awkward. Isabel didn't know what else to do, so she sat quietly beside Rath in the back of the van, her gaze flittering occasionally to where Liz and Ava dozed, and Michael and Max piloted the van in the front. She could feel Michael's eyes checking on her, and his dupe, in the rearview mirror.

And she could feel Rath's gaze shift to her every so often, feeling goosebumps pop up on her arms whenever he did. He made her uncomfortable, though not because he was staring. Because her heart ached whenever she looked at him; she couldn't imagine the pain he was feeling.

He stared at her once again and then sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. She looked over at him inquisitively. "Sorry," he muttered, unable to meet her gaze. "I just...you look..."

Isabel reached out slowly and stilled his hand, and then twined her fingers through his. Rath stilled completely and turned to her, looking startled and conflicted. She gave him a sad smile, but she didn't release his hand. After a moment she felt him squeeze her digits tighter, and he took another deep, steadying breath.

Michael's gaze caught hers once again in the mirror for a moment. Isabel held it, then closed her eyes and leaned against her window. She hoped to dream of something good, something better than what they were facing. The steady sound of Rath's breathing lulled her into sleep.

* * *

They couldn't go into Roswell of course, in case someone recognized them. Michael was okay with that, but he knew that some of the others were feeling the pain of being so close to home but not being allowed to see it. He had trouble relating to that, having had the Roswell experience that he did.

Most of the people that he would have liked to see weren't there anyway, and Michael wasn't about to put Jim Valenti in danger, no matter how much he wanted to see the older man. Plus he lived in abject fear that he would run into Maria's mom there...what would he tell her? That they didn't know where her daughter was? He didn't want any part in _that_ conversation.

Liz and Isabel had both been looking mopey ever since they crossed the New Mexico state line, and it was making him uncomfortable. So when they pulled into a gas station in Hondo, needing to fill up the gas guzzling Scooby Van, Michael jumped out eagerly and went in to pay, leaving Max to pump.

Michael nodded a polite hello to the young kid behind the counter and began to browse around the store. It was a hot day, and he found himself gravitating towards a Snapple-filled cooler. "Score," he muttered, finding a lone Peach Snapple remaining. He reached in and grabbed it gratefully, before continuing to meander up and down the chips aisle, waiting for Max to finish pumping the gas. He picked up a Three Musketeers Bar as well.

His gaze flicked up to one of the streaked windows lining the wall. He could see Max still pumping. Isabel climbed out of the back of the van, looking disheveled and tired. She gathered her long hair up into a bun on the top of her head and then secured it with an elastic from around her wrist. She wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. She looked hot and miserable.

Michael looked down to the Snapple in his hand and groaned. When he climbed back into the van three minutes later he had a bag full of Snapples, chocolate bars, and chips. He gave the peach one to Isabel and her smile made the fact that he had to drink pink lemonade totally worth it.

* * *

"We're almost there," Max told Rath and Ava seriously.

"Nicholas will be waiting for us," Rath told them, peeling the label from his drink.

"Good," Max declared, causing Liz to look up at him wide frightened doe eyes. "I'm tired of this, of all of this. I'm tired of running, of hiding...of loosing our people. We're going to end this."

Michael was eager, an innate, primitive part of him wanting the chance to fight, to defend his team. He was born a soldier after all, and Nicholas had been a sore spot for a while now. Rath and Max seemed to share his belief.

"Then we'll need a plan," Isabel said, looking more serious than he'd seen in a while. He was hit with a sudden flash, with the vision of Vilandra, in a crimson dress, sitting at the head of a long table, a sampling of maps and Captains spread before her.

She grabbed a notebook from her bag and opened it to a blank page, waving her hand over it and producing a map of Roswell. Her eyes flicked up to Michael and Rath, silently commanding them to provide their input. "I think we should make our stand here," a perfectly manicured nail pointed to a spot on the map, just north of Roswell. "If we set up here, along this ridge..."

Ten minutes later, when the van pulled away from the rest stop, they had a plan. Michael was ready; it had been a long time since he'd seen a real battle.

* * *

He usually dreamed about the usual, non-sensical things that other men dreamed of. Sports, women, and those dreams where you're on one of those epic quests for beer. But, because he knew things, secrets, that most men didn't know, Jim Valenti sometimes had dreams that left him waking up to a cold sweat and shaking hands. His son being locked in a cell, beautiful blonde girls being dissected alive, the Parker girl lying dead on a cement floor. Horrible things and fleeting visions of flying space craft, explosions, and a lot of young, innocent people being terrorized.

When Jim woke from _those_ dreams he tried to let his mind loose the memory, do that thing that it does every other day where it just..._forgets_. Those dreams were much harder to forget though, and he usually had trouble going back to sleep, was scared to close his eyes again. And he always had to lie to Amy about it. Fortunately she was a sound sleeper.

Two years of dreams, two years of wondering where his kids had gone, and if they were okay. He'd received a letter once, months before, and he knew that they'd separated. He knew that Kyle was with Maria, and that at the time they'd been safe. He prayed that was still true, and hoped that they could start new lives now. Maybe he'd see his son again, be able to hug him and smell his grandchildren's hair one day, and know that it was all worth it.

Those thoughts got him through those nights, and helped him live in the world instead of just existing in it. He remained vigilant, and always kept an eye out, in case the kids popped up. Or in case someone got too close, and needed to be taken care of. It happened sometimes.

Besides the letter--which he had to decipher, but knew it was from Kyle--he'd heard nothing.

And then, one night, he was fishing with Kyle and he looked up. A beautiful girl was there, smiling at him. He knew that it wasn't part of the dream, because Kyle continued to chatter away about an upcoming football game, and didn't notice the alien sit down beside them. Jim stared at her in shock, knowing her face from his nightmares, but finding that he'd forgot some of the features. Her eyes were wider, her hair longer than he'd remembered. And she was blonde again.

"Hi Sheriff," she greeted, her voice echoing through his head musically. Jim smiled, wanted to reach out and touch her, make sure she was real. He didn't, because the part of him that knew that he was dreaming also knew that she wasn't _really_ there.

"Hello Isabel," he said instead. Jim felt his stomach tighten, because he knew that if she was here...something must be wrong. The very thought startled enough that his body began to wake up.

Around him the scene began to fade away: the pond, the rods, the trees bleeding away into nothing. Kyle disappeared too, but she remained, clear and visible and solid. She looked around, realizing what was happening.

"I'm sorry to..."

"What's wrong?" Jim demanded, reaching out in his dream to grasp her shoulder. He almost sighed in relief when he made contact.

"We need your help," she told him. "Please don't wake up yet."

"Help?" his fears were confirmed. "What's going on? Are you all okay? Is Kyle?"

"Kyle's fine," she assured him quickly. "I check on them every so often, they're both okay. But we need...Nicholas is headed this way."

"Which way? Where are you?" Jim ignored the echoing voice that was now calling his name. It sounded like Amy.

"The pod chamber," Isabel told him. She looked around and Jim realized that she could hear the voice too. She seemed to know that it meant, because he eyes caught his and she reached for his hand. "Please come Sheriff. We need your help."

He squeezed her fingers. "I will," he promised. Isabel's hand slipped away and then she was gone, and he was sitting in his bed, his hand clasped on Amy's shoulder.

"Jim!" Amy sighed in relief. "Thank God! I was calling your name for two minutes!"

"Sorry," he shook his head to clear the cobwebs. "Dreaming."

She frowned. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he assured her. "I think I'll just go and get a little air though, okay? To clear my head."

Amy looked uneasy, but she was clearly tired and yawned in response. She laid back down and Jim hurried to the closet and pulling on a shirt, jeans, and his boots.

He'd promised her. He had to go.

* * *

"You're sure he got the message?" Rath asked her, kicking a small rock at one of the tires. He looked run down and weary, and it made Isabel incredibly sad to see it.

"He got it," she assured them. "He said he'd help."

"He'll be here," Max said confidently. "Valenti's never let us down before."

Isabel shivered a bit in the cool desert night and leaned against the van beside Michael. He looked over at her and slipped off his jacket, handing it to her wordlessly. Isabel hesitated but then took the offered garment with a small, grateful smile. He stared at her for a moment while she slipped it on. The sleeves came well past her hands, and it was far too big for her, but it was warm and it smelled like Michael. He reached out to free her hair from where it was tucked into the collar, his hand lingering for a moment.

"I see headlights," Ava announced from her perch on top of the van. They all lined up along the side of the vehicle and Ava climbed down.

The lights grew closer and finally came to a stop thirty feet in front of them, blindingly bright in the dark, deserted desert. Isabel wanted to hurry forward, but Michael and Rath held up their hands cautiously, and so she stayed in place.

After a moment a figure stepped out of the truck. The lights illuminated him as he walked over, and they all sighed in relief. "Sheriff!" Liz cried out, her and Isabel pushing their way forward eagerly.

Valenti grinned and greeted Liz with a hug. Liz's eyes closed tightly and Isabel realized that the girl felt safe for the first time in weeks. Isabel hugged him next, getting the distinct feeling that she was returning home.

"Boys," Jim chuckled, pulling both Michael and Max in for hugs. Michael even smiled at him.

"How are you Sheriff?" Max asked with a smile and a pat on the back.

"Good, I'm good," Jim replied, eyeing Ava and Rath, who stood back a bit. "Is that..."

"Ava and Rath," Max supplied, knowing what Jim was probably thinking. Isabel knew too, because Jim was staring at Ava with a mixture of pain and something else on his face. Heartbreak possibly.

"Of course," Valenti nodded, reaching a hand out to shake Rath's own, larger hand. "I guess we've met before, huh?" Rath nodded and Jim shook Ava's hand next. He caught her crystal blue eyes sadly. "I just can't get over how much you look..." his voice trailed off and he tore his gaze away from Ava. "So," he looked at the group expectantly now.

"I'm sorry about the dream walk Sheriff," Isabel told him, knowing she'd spooked him and feeling a little guilty for it. "We couldn't risk running into anyone in town."

"I understand," Jim assured them. "Now what's going on?"

* * *

Nicholas stepped out of the car on Main Street and looked around distastefully. Roswell was still the same hole that it had been last time--but with more people. He didn't bother with tricks or toys this time, because he had a feeling that he'd need to question the humans sooner of later.

"Where to, General?" his driver asked. Nicholas considered that--where to start?

"The Crashdown," he decided. "I'm...hungry." He was lying, of course, but it was the best place to start.

* * *

Jim gave them keys to the house on Penner Farm. "Old Jack Penner is in Phoenix for his daughter's wedding," he'd explained. "He'll be gone 'til next week and asked me to keep an eye on the place. I don't think he'd mind if you stayed there--just make sure you clean up after yourselves."

The house had three bedrooms, and a pullout in the living room. Michael knew that Rath would want the privacy, so he volunteered to take the couch and let Rath take one of the rooms. The others doubled up.

Michael switched off the TV with a sigh and leaned back, folding his arms behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling, imagining the sky beyond it, and let himself run over the plan in his head. Let himself worry.

He'd always worried before he went into battle, never took it as easily as he'd pretended to. He was impetuous and headstrong normally, but he'd always been cautious leading others into a fight, which was why he'd been so good at commanding an army.

Michael frowned then, realizing that _he_ hadn't really done any of that. Not in that life anyway. The memories were there though, the instinctive knowledge. It was...disturbing, to say the least.

He must have been staring at the ceiling longer than he realized, because he suddenly became aware of someone on the couch with him. She contemplated him quietly, dressed in cozy looking pajamas and hugging her knees to her chest. Michael looked at her blankly.

Isabel smiled softly and smoothed a hand over his hair, her fingers warm against his temple. "Sad boy," she said quietly and he let himself lean into her touch. "What's going through that head of yours?"

He wanted to brush her question off, he wanted to lie to her. But...he didn't.

"I'm worried," he admitted, toying with an invisible piece of lint on a cartoon star on her knee. "About tomorrow night...about everything I guess."

She smiled. "You always worry the night before," she told him. Bizarre that she knew that! "Michael," she added his name, almost like a pointed after-thought. He knew a part of her had wanted to say Rath, and he understood. He really did. "What's worrying you most?"

"Right now...Larek," Michael sighed. "I know he'll help, but...we don't even know how to contact him really."

"That's why we've got Valenti going to Brody," Isabel reminded him. Her voice was soothing, like a cool balm on scorched skin. "We'll use Brody to get in contact with Larek."

Michael knew that, but it was reassuring to hear her say it. He felt like such a dependent pansy sometimes, with her. He didn't absolutely hate it though; there was no one else he'd rather depend on than Is. "What about you?" he asked her. "What are you most worried about?"

"Going _home_," she said the word with equal parts reverence, disappointment, and excitement. "I don't know what it will be like there Michael. I don't know if I'll like it--if I even want to go."

"It has to be better," he told her. "Better than what we're leaving here--this is no life. It's time for something else now."

"A world where we're going to be hunted by the government?" she laughed. "That doesn't sound so different!"

"We won't be going back to that," Michael shook his head. "With Larek's help we'll return to a new planet. It won't be Khivar's game anymore--it'll be something different."

"So you believe it will work now?" she teased slightly. Michael held her gaze.

"Yes," he said confidently. "I do."

She bit her lip and blinked, breaking their locked gazes. "I'm going back to a world that thinks I betrayed them Michael. To the families of those soldiers that died--some of my only memories from Antar are of your fallen men, and the knowledge that I helped that happen."

Michael had never been the comforting type, but he wanted so badly to be it now, for her. "I think that people will be ready to see a change," he said. "We aren't returning to a world where Max will be the unquestioned King, and we aren't returning to Khivar's warped dictatorship either. Our people have spent decades under repressive rules of some kind and we have to believe that they're ready for something different. We may be half human now but Antar is still our home, and we belong there as much as Khivar and his army does. They created us so that we could go back and save our people from him, so we _have_ to believe that they're waiting for us."

She stared back, wide-eyed, and he felt really stupid. He very seriously contemplated getting up and walking away--anything to hide the blushing and morbid embarrassment that he was feeling at that moment.

"I love you," she blurted out, blushing a dark pink as she said it. Michael forgot to breathe for a moment. "I--you and Max, you're really my whole world. I don't care where we go, or what we do there; as long as you're there with me. So please, don't...promise me that you'll both always be with me. You're my family, everything that I really care about. I just...I need to you know that. Okay?"

He nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from her lips as she spoke. "Okay," he heard himself mumble.

He knew that Maria had loved him, and he'd loved her too. Enough to stay behind once, and make a go of a real life on Earth. He'd been able to ignore the pain of loosing Isabel and Max then, because the feelings that he'd had for Maria were so unlike anything he'd ever experienced. No one had ever told Michael Guerin that they loved him before she had, and it made everything seem worth it at the time.

But now...the idea of going anywhere without Isabel was so absurd that he'd never even considered it before. Human love was powerful, but what he remembered feeling for Vilandra was something he couldn't describe in words. He looked at Isabel and felt all of it; the love he had for Isabel Evans, and what he remembered feeling for Vilandra. It was all consuming, and not something that he believed he could live without anymore.

"Okay?" she sounded relieved, and he felt warm all over.

"I promise," he swore, feeling himself move closer to her, leaning in.

"Thank-you," she said breathily, just before his lips met hers.

Michael was positive that the world stopped around them, and all that existed was him and Isabel. His skin hummed at the sensation of having her so close, his nerve endings on fire, and he realized that his body knew before he did that he was supposed to be there, with her.

TBC...


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine: Unknown

A/N: Can you believe how long it's been since I updated? I'm really sorry about that. Real life got in the way, and I haven't been particularly inspired. But I read a few Cliffie fanfictions today--old ones, that I've already read a dozen times--and realized that I need to do my part and keep the ship alive. That means updating my fic no matter what, because so many of you have been so great and keep reading and reviewing no matter how long I neglect writing. Thanks so much for keeping with me. There'll be one more chapter after this one: the battley, resolutioney, endingy one. I'm done school for the summer so I can actually do some work on it now. I will. Seriously. Many thanks again to all of you nice enough to keep with me; I aim to give you a proper ending to this story, one that will make up for the loooooong wait times. A tiny spoiler (that's heavily hinted throughout anyway!): not all of the Podsquad will make it through. But I think you'll be happy with its ending. So sit back, and enjoy Chapter Nine...which is actually called the Unknown (and not because I couldn't think of a chapter name). Xs and Os to you all :0)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~  


I was born the eldest son to King Soren of Magna, the richest planet in our star system. I was called Larek in honour of my grand father, the first Magnan King to ever sign a peace accord with the Antarians. My family became their family from that day forward, and I spent a large part of my youth with the Antarian crowned prince. Zan and I learned politics and history from the finest university in our star system, and I was pained to watch as he went on to loose his hold on his planet. The single most crushing day of my life was the day I learned that Zan had died, his wife murdered, and his crown had been taken by Khivar. The next day General Rath's army, until then the most powerful in our star system, fell to Khivar's rebels, the enemy attacking from within. And Princess Vilandra, the planet's greatest jewel and final hope, betrayed her family to the rebels. Rath and Vilandra both perished, their young son vanished, and Antar ushered our star system into sixty years of war. Dark ages.

It was learned some years later that, aware of the rising rebellion, Zan's father, King Abram, had taken steps to ensure the survival of Antar's Royal Four, should the planet fall to the rebels. Abram's worst fears were realized, and Antarian-human hybrids were dispatched to a distant star system before the King died, where the hybrids could grow and ready themselves for the upcoming fight in relative safety. My planet, and the others in our star system, wait in an anxious limbo for the Royal Four to return to Antar, and to help restore the peace.

The best laid plans of mice and men fall short though. Antar's new hope did indeed survive, on a distant and much more primitive planet several galaxies away, however their memories of Antar were largely absent. Antar's famed Royal Four became scared children, alone and hunted with no memories of their previous lives, and far away from home. Since learning of their existence I have tried to keep in touch, have spoken to Zan, and have been waiting for them to return. But they seemed to have vanished as of late, and even my emissary on Earth hasn't been able to track them down.

Until today.

My secretary alerted me to an incoming coms transmission, a weak connection that set off alarms in the power stations in capital city. Earth was calling, and even as I hurried through my chambers to the coms room to receive the fractioned call I knew who it was.

And for the first time since the Summit meeting three years earlier, I had hope of a new life for Magna, for Antar, for all of us.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~

He was different now, she could see it in his eyes, in the way that he looked at everyone, and it wasn't just because Lonnie was gone. Ava knew that there was something else, some other reason why Rath was acting different. He was kinder now, to her at least. And he spent a lot of time staring at Isabel with a far off look in his eye. Ava didn't know what to do for him, didn't really even know if she should try. He'd been awful to her, but him and Lonnie had both seemed to have turned themselves around. Despite it all, she couldn't stand to see him hurting like that.

'Zan would know what to do,' she thought to herself with a sigh. Ava looked up at the sky above her, their distance from the city allowing the vast open space to look even more overwhelming. She sat down on the Penner's deck. The blue paint was beginning to chip off on the worn path across the steps, and she scratched at it a bit with her nails. Then she waved a hand over a worn section and restored the blue colouring. She smiled a bit.

"Much better," Max voice over her shoulder teased her, and he took a seat beside her. He smiled warmly at her before turning his gaze up at the vast sky above them.

Ava looked up too and found her eyes drawn to the familiar Ares constellation. "What are you doing out here?" he asked her. She looked at him briefly, then averted her gaze, unable to see his face when she'd just been thinking of Zan. It felt wrong somehow.

"Trying to remember," she told him, indicating to the sky. She decided not to tell him her thoughts about Rath; the guy was having a tough enough time right now without people bugging him about how he was acting. He wasn't a threat anyway.

"Any luck?"

She shrugged. "Nothing new," she admitted. "Nothing Zan and I didn't learn years ago. I still can't remember how to use the Granolith, or exactly what happened up there."

"Me neither," he said. Ava shivered a bit in the night's air and he reached out to rub her arms. She warmed up immediately, though his hands really generated very little heat in their motion.

"Have you tried though?" she asked with a teasing grin. "Really?"

"Not really," he admitted. "Not since Tess."

"Why not?" she asked. "Of all of the times to remember, now would be great. We could use all of the help that we can get."

"Tess was the only person that was ever really able to help me remember," Max sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I get flashes sometimes, but I don't remember things the way I did with her."

Ava nodded, because she understood that. She'd remembered things with Zan, glimpses of their wedding, meeting at a ball, playing with her younger sister. But she'd only ever got flashes from other things, no true memories. "Maybe we were just designed that way," she wondered aloud. "Everything just seems to work best when we're together."

He knew what she meant; they were all stronger, their powers all farther reaching, when they were together. The Royal Four. But as he looked into her eyes and nodded, she knew that he was saying more than just agreeing with her. It made her shiver again, but in a very different way than the cold air.

"What are you doing out here?" Ava asked after a long, slightly uncomfortable silence. A pause.

"I don't know," his answer was honest but filled with so much unsaid that it made her heart ache a bit. For him, for Zan, for herself, for Tess...for Liz. Their last night before their big battle and Ava knew that he _should_ be inside with his wife. Instead he was out here with her...his _other_ wife.

She couldn't bring herself to ask about Liz, or about what he thought about going to Antar. It was a possibility, they knew that. Nicholas said there was a ride coming, and they were still unsure if they'd be on it.

Zan had been the headstrong and silent type, and Ava knew exactly to deal with him. She figured that Max was very much the same.

So she didn't say anything, and instead she let her hand move over to rest on his forearm, hoping that he would just know that she supported him, no matter what. They were both a constant visual reminder of loved ones that they'd lost, and they both seemed to be drawn to each other despite the pain that it caused. She saw Zan and he saw Tess, but yet underneath it all they knew that there was something deeper there; something underlying and undeniable. They were meant for each other after all.

Max slid his hand over hers and they both stared up at the sky in silence. The memories started to come.

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_The ground shook with the force of the explosions outside of the palace walls. Smoke billowed up from behind the stone barriers, looking to all of those inside like waving black pillars. _

_General Rath marched quickly down the lines of assembled soldiers, peering into their faces contemplatively. He hoped that they didn't see his anxiousness, but knew that they could hardly help but do so. Their King had fallen, and the breaking dawn was about to usher in a new day. Rath feared for the worst. _

_Khivar's men had breached the palace walls somehow, and he'd taken Zan hostage in the throne room. Ava was dead, her blood spilt by Khivar's military man, Nicholas, because of what she could do. Nicholas had the gift of knowing what was in one's mind, and very few people had been able to challenge his ability. Ava was one of them. So she was eliminated._

_Rath was wracked with guilt over it, for he himself had promoted Nicholas to the rank of Captain. He'd been fooled by the sociopathic man, believed him to be a good soldier. And he supposed that Nicholas was a good soldier, he was just on the wrong side. _

_Khivar on the other hand, Rath had never trusted. He'd never been promoted within Rath's army, and had gained his following based on his political ability. Khivar targeted the weak, and those that struggled under Antar's class system. Zan had been making moves to change the political system on Antar, and he'd been pushing for a quick change too, but when families struggle they have a tendency to latch onto the first person who promises an easy future for them. Khivar preyed on that weakness, and though he never found agreement with the majority of Antarians, he found a following with a large enough sector that he was able to raise a private army._

_Rath tried to push those thoughts out of his head though, because he had bigger concerns at that moment. Khivar had Zan and a dozen of his men with him in the throne room. Rath had ordered the roads into the palace destroyed, to keep the rioters out of the grounds. The last thing he needed was to see his troops divided by having to deal with rioters while they waited to move to rescue Zan. The acrid smell of the smoke filled his nostrils and burned his eyes, but he ignored it._

_He'd been trying to deal with Khivar, to play his game so that Zan got out safely. That was the ultimate goal. But he'd gotten no where._

_The soldiers saluted in unison and Rath turned around in surprise. Vilandra hurried across the field from the palace, managing to look stunning and statuesque even in the middle of all of the chaos. Despite it all, he wanted to smile at the very sight of her. At least he did, until he saw the look on her face. She was scared, openly so._

_Rath hurried to meet her half way, his hand reaching out to touch hers automatically. "What is it?" he asked in concern, his mind going first to their son. "Where's Luca?"_

_"He is with Myra," Vilandra assured him. "They are at your mother's. Rath the riots are growing out of control. There are reports coming in of damage to the city's infrastructure, hospitals, even the churches."_

_He signed in frustration. "I can spare some of the men," he concluded resolutely. "Khivar has only a couple of dozen men with him, and we need to protect the city." She nodded and looked like she wanted to say more, but she didn't._

_"Okay," she said instead. Rath cupped her cheek with his hand briefly and then returned to relay the order to his men. He could feel her gaze on his back, burning into the back of his neck like a heat lamp._

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The room was dark, the sun having set a while ago, but she didn't care. Liz Parker sat in silence in the middle of the queen sized bed, hugging her bare legs to her chest and staring blankly into the dark nothingness. She was trying to remember how she'd got here. To this point. But it was escaping her.

It was with surprise that she realized that there were drying tear tracks lining her cheeks. She didn't wipe them away though, and they dripped off of her chin, wetting the fabric of her tank top once they landed.

Her husband wasn't there, he was outside somewhere, taking stock of his followers most likely. She was okay with that though, if she was honest. Things had been weird between them lately; they had been fighting a lot, and sometimes it was a challenge just to find something nice to say to each other, something good to talk about.

It felt like her world was collapsing around her. Or maybe it was just rushing forward, and no matter how fast she ran, she just couldn't keep up. And then there was Antar...

Rath's words earlier that morning had stung her, because she knew that he was right. The trip to Antar was inevitable, and she knew that her powers were now gone. Antar wasn't an option for her...and honestly, she didn't want to go. The idea of a foreign place, full of Nasedos and Khivars and Nicholases, scared her. She had no powers, and a husband that sometimes forgot her existence...how could she survive there?

She'd spent a lot of time in the last few days thinking about Kyle and Maria. What would have been different if she'd left with them? If she'd stayed with Kyle all of those years ago? Would they all be running? Would Alex still be here? Would she have ran away with Sean DeLuca? That had never sounded that appealing before, because she was so over the moon for Max. She'd given a lot to be with him, but it was starting to feel like too much. Like maybe the best thing for both of them-for all of them even-would be for her to go.

Liz Parker wanted her life back. Her old life. She loved her husband, she always would, but she wanted to do the things that she's missed out on. She wanted to go to school, become a scientist. She wanted to see her family again.

The clock on the wall ticked on softly, changing over into a new day. Liz wiped the tear tracks away now and steeled her shoulders, he mind made up. She knew what she had to do now. She just willed herself to be strong enough to go through with it.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~

_The sun shone down harsh and bright, glistening off of her golden locks and her shining gown, and warming her skin. It should have burned, but it didn't..._

_A familiar, comforting hand came down, stroking the silky strands and cupping her cheek, angling her face up to his. She looked into his eyes and smiled, as she always did, rising to meet him. His hand stayed on her face, lovingly, as it always was._

_When her lips met his she saw the sky above them change, the sun fading into the starlit sky that seemed to move rapidly overhead. He didn't notice, too wrapped up in the woman he was with. As he usually was. She was a show stopper, and he'd never known love or happiness before as he did with her._

_He threaded his fingers through her hair and deepened their kiss, the taste of her, and the sweet smell of her skin invading his senses, his nerve endings sparking to life. _

_When they reluctantly separated he slid his hand down to her waist, frowning in confusion at the fuzzy fabric there. They both looked down...they were both suddenly wearing their pajamas. _

_He ignored it, because the sun raised up again in the sky, the process taking just seconds. The ground around them was suddenly covered in Antarian symbols. Isabel turned to her right, her fingers entwined with his, and pointed out a symbol by their feet. War...he knew that it meant war._

_"Issy?"_

_She looked confused too. Then her eyes landed on something over his shoulder and her mouth opened in wonder. "Brody?"_

_Michael spun around then, sharing her surprise at seeing their old friend there._

_"Vilandra," Brody greeted warmly. "General."_

_"Larek," Michael realized, both happy to see him and worried. _

_"I'm sorry to have to reach you this way," he told them with a regretful smile. "It is taking a while to generate enough power to send a message through my emissary on Earth."_

_"How can you reach us this way?" Isabel asked him._

_"I have abilities similar to yours," he smiled again, his kind words and Brody's familiar face giving him a comforting presence. "It's important that I tell you, I got your message when this human body attempted to contact me. And I've sent you help in your fight against Khivar."_

_"You have?" Isabel looked so relieved that Michael had to smile. He squeezed her hand tighter. _

_"There are many people in our star system waiting for your return, and not just those on Antar," he explained. "Khivar has a ship coming, they will arrive in two days at the meet point in Nevada. Some of my most trusted men will be on board; they've been working undercover for Khivar's Army, in Nicholas's absence. You'll need to meet them in Nevada once they arrive. They'll be your ride home."_

_"Home?" Isabel repeated warily._

_"Back to Antar," he clarified. They stared at each other awkwardly now, none of them quite sure what else to say. "You're going to need to hold off Nicholas and his men," Larek told them with a heavy sigh. _

_"We're not strong enough yet," Michael told him honestly. He hadn't wanted to admit the fact out loud, but he knew that it would be stupid to not tell Larek now, when the had the chance for help. "There's only the five of us left with any powers."_

_"The Royal Four has powers beyond those that any Skin possesses," Larek assured them._

_"We still haven't learned how to use all of our powers," Isabel told him. "We don't remember what we can do."_

_"Go to the Granolith," Larek said. "It is capable of incredible healing, that is why it is worshiped. The Granolith can help you to remember; can help you to control your power."_

_Larek's image flickered then, as if he were a hologram that was fading away. "I have to go," he explained. "I still need to speak with your brother. Be safe Princess, and you General. I know that we will see each other again soon, when you are home."_

_He disappeared then, leaving them standing there on the cliffs, the wind rustling their pajamas and her hair._

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~

The granolith stood tall and looming, just as it had the last time they'd laid eyes on it. The day that Tess caught her ride home. Isabel felt dwarfed by its presence, as she had always been before. For something capable of such healing it was also amazingly intimidating. People started wars, burned cities and murdered children to get their hands on that relic...and they didn't even know what it could do.

"How many days has it been?" she found herself asking, knowing the question wasn't really appropriate, but finding that she had no other words.

Michael answered her softly, his eyes trained on the granolith as well. "Eight hundred and fifty-two."

Eight hundred and fifty-two days since they'd left, since they'd seen their families, since they'd all been together. It felt like a lifetime, and yet, staring up at that ageless artifact, she knew that it was nothing in the grand scheme of things. Nothing even in the course of her own life. It was humbling, to say the least.

Rath was staring at the thing in reverence, as if he was fighting the urge to kneel before it. Isabel had the strangest feeling that he knew more about it than he was letting on.

Max reached forward and pressed a hand to the slick black surface. "Be careful," Liz warned him, but made no move to stop him. Isabel didn't blame her. The girl wanted out, it was obvious to all of them, and Isabel knew that she was anxious to see something, _anything_, happen.

Nothing did though. The granolith didn't activate, or glow, or sparkle, or anything. It just stood there, onyx coloured and almost grotesquely massive; oppressive yet still inspirational.

"You're forgetting the on button," Rath told them, a hint of his old snark peeping through. He held up a black crystal, a gift from Brody (well, actually, from Larek), to remind them. Max rolled his eyes but stepped aside. Rath waved a hand over a spot on the base of the granolith, and inserted the crystal into the hand-print that appeared there. The granolith switched on...or at least, as close as it could come to switching on. The glowing that they'd seen years before filled the chamber again, the energy pouring forth and filling the room with the steady hum of high-powered electricity.

"Last time it took a day to generate enough power," Max reminded them. "I don't know if we have that long."

"We don't need that long," Rath shook his head, watching the relic with a sad smile. "We just need it to heal."

"Remind me again what we're healing here?" Valenti asked, looking mightily impressed with the thing. Isabel had to remind herself that he'd never seen the granolith before.

"Them," Rath waved his hand towards Max, Isabel, Ava and Michael. "Their powers have been diluted from being on Earth for so long. The granolith will help to restore them."

"Just them?" Valenti questioned. "What about you?"

"I remember enough," Rath replied vaguely, prompting frowns of confusion from the others. "It's beautiful...both destroyer and healer of worlds."

"That's beautiful?" Liz asked incredulously.

Rath nodded but otherwise ignored her comment. Isabel sort of understood him though. There was something tragically beautiful about the unknown power that it possessed.

"How long should it take then?" Max asked him.

"Not too much longer," Rath assured them. "I can already feel the waves coming off it stronger. Larek's crystal packed quite a punch."

"So we wait then?" Isabel asked him. For her he tore his eyes away from the granolith and spared her a small smile.

"We wait."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~

"Sheriff?" Liz Parker approached the older man cautiously. They had stepped into the pod chamber, away from the others who stood with the granolith waiting. Valenti looked at her, concern for them all crinkling the lines around his eyes. She knew that he'd aged a decade in the last couple of years. She didn't blame him though, it was going around.

"Liz?"

"I-I need you help Sheriff," she told him shakily. Valenti looked concerned but nodded quickly.

"Of course, anything."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~

"It's ready," Rath's voice cut through the fog in Michael's brain and shook him to attention. All thoughts of running, of fighting, of Lonnie, of Isabel, of Antar left him and he looked up to the granolith. It was time to change things. It was time to give them the advantage in this game.

The hybrids formed a circle around the granolith wordlessly, Rath standing back a bit and Liz and Valenti pressing themselves against the cavern walls, as far away from the relic as they could get. Michael could feel the energy in the room, humming like high-voltage electricity. It made his skin break out in goosebumps, the hair on his arms standing on end.

Max, Ava, Michael and Isabel reached out and pressed a hand to the slick, shining surface. Michael immediately felt an energy pouring through him, starting in his hand and working its way throughout his body. He vaguely heard Liz gasp behind him, and he knew that it was because of the light. The bright, blinding light that encompassed the four of them, obscuring their vision. He didn't need to see anyway, because his mind was racing, filling with new information, remembering things he had long forgotten. Things from his life on Earth, when he was a child, and things from before.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~

A dozen soldiers followed Nicholas as he climbed out of the SUV, the bright sun reflecting off of the dark tinted windows. He looked around at the dunes and cliffs in front of them. He could _feel_ the fight that was coming.

Nicholas didn't fear a fight, he relished it. He'd been born to be a soldier, he'd always known that, and war was a part of life for him. He welcomed the conflict, because more than anything now, Nicholas wanted to go home. He had been away from Antar for sixty long years now, and he would do anything now to get back there.

His men paused behind him, following his gaze up to a particular rock formation. This was it, they all knew it. They couldn't see the Granolith, or the Royal Four, but they were being drawn in. The relics energy was pulsating, throbbing rhythmic waves out over the sand, through their skins. They advanced automatically, their bodies unconsciously trying to move closer to the source of that power, towards the thing that an entire star system had been searching for.

There was an obvious path up the cliff that they found easily, however they were stopped by an impenetrable wall of rock, and no visible door. Nicholas growled in frustration, knowing that he couldn't open the door. This was why he'd hoped that Lonnie would be on their side...

"We'll wait," he told his men. "They have to come out eventually, and when we do we'll end this and get off of this damn rock."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~

Isabel Evans stared down at her hand pensively, watching her fingertips light up in succession as she flickered them. She smiled and sent an arc of energy from her thumb to her pinkie finger. Her gaze flicked up and met Liz's wide-eyed stare; Liz averted her eyes quickly. Isabel smirked.

Michael was watching her silently, his expression even more unreadable than usual. His gaze was heavy, and probing, and oddly...proud? She understood though, because she felt different. She was still undeniably Isabel, but now she remembered more. She remembered Vilandra.

Most importantly, she remembered what had happened on Antar.

All she wanted was to talk to him, to touch him. She felt herself reach out, her hand closing on his forearm silently and her gaze turning up to his. They had an entire conversation without speaking.

Michael ran a finger down the side of her face softly, letting it come to rest on the moonstone necklace that lay nestled against her collarbone. The flash hit her strong, its intensity magnified by their newly discovered powers. Her eyes closed and her breathing grew heavier, mixing with his. His touch burned her skin like a heat lamp, scorching wonderfully. She moaned and moved into his touch, pressing her palm against his chest and stepping closer to him still. He moaned and ran a hand down her arm, his fingertips leaving a trail of silver, making her skin glow where his fingers pressed.

When the flash ended Isabel became suddenly aware of Liz, Jim and Rath watching them. Liz and Jim were both wide-eyed, and Rath just smirked forlornly. Isabel stepped away from Michael, averting her eyes awkwardly. He cleared his throat, obviously embarrassed, and gave her hand a soft squeeze before turning to Max.

Her brother had that look, the one she'd only seen when they found themselves in great peril. But this time it was different: Isabel knew that it wasn't just Max staring back at her now. Zan was there now too, and he was pissed.

"We've lost enough time," Max declared. "Nicholas and his men are--"

"Here," Ava interrupted him, her eyes closed in concentration. "They're here. I can feel him, waiting outside."

"Oh God," Liz's voice shook. Jim lay a hand on her shoulder comfortingly.

"They know we're here," Rath said, confirming what they were all fearing. "He wouldn't have found it otherwise. As soon as we activated it they were able to follow the signal."

"I can get us out of here without them seeing it," Ava told them.

Max considered that. "Okay, everyone knows the plan right?" They nodded and Max sighed. "All right Ava," he put a hand on her shoulder. "It's your turn."

Ava took a deep breath and let her eyes glaze over; Isabel knew that she was setting up the mind warp. In less than a minute she turned to the rest of the group. "It's done, lets go."

Rath led the way to the door, checked to make sure that the others were following, and then waved a hand to open it. He stepped out into the bright sunlight and disappeared around the corner, Max, Ava, Liz and Jim hot on his heels. Isabel made to follow them, but Michael reached out and grabbed her hand.

"Be smart," his eyes pleaded with hers and his voice was low and husky. "Be careful." Isabel nodded and he pressed a quick kiss to her lips--too quick. Then they followed the others out, closing the door behind them and sealing the relic away from the world.

TBC...


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten: Resurrection

_The acrid smell of burning grass and charred flesh filled the sky. Pillars of smoke obscured his vision, but he was still able to make out the tall, looming gates of the palace. They were locked for the first time in almost a hundred years, having been sealed up to keep the rioters out. To keep the royal family safe._

_Nicholas smirked joyously at that notion. The royal family had a greater threat facing them then the rioters, which they now realized. 'Whoever is left of them.'_

_Now he watched as his men opened the gates, removed the metal bracing bars that held them shut, and opened the palace to the city. There was no royal family there to protest, to try and stop it. Because the last of them, of the Royal Four at least, lay still at his feet. Nicholas looked down, to the General's broken and now stilled body._

_Lines of crimson red streaked down the corners of his slackened mouth, and pooled in the hollow of his throat. The eyes stared up at Nicholas blankly, vapidly he thought. Nicholas sneered and used the toe of his boot to turn the fallen man's face away. His palms still tingled with the memory of being wrapped around Rath's throat, and the satisfying crack of a snapping neck repeated in his head. It was inspiring._

"_Bring her to me!" Nicholas commanded to three of his men who were struggling with a group of rioters. One of his commanders nodded and grabbed the young woman from the crowd, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her roughly towards their new general._

_The girl screamed and tried to free herself; the guard backhanded her across the cheek then pushed her at Nicholas. He caught her roughly by the arm and addressed his men. "We're not to be disturbed," he snapped at them, and then pulled the girl across the field, towards a gardening shed. She struggled and whimpered against his grip, but didn't try to scream again._

_Once they reached the shed he pushed her inside and pulled the door shut behind him with a slam._

_A breeze picked up and blew the smoke across the battlefield, obscuring the view from the shed of Rath's fallen body._

* * *

Nicholas was growing impatient. They'd been waiting almost half an hour now for the Royal Four to emerge from their hideaway. "What is this?" he yelled at his men furiously. "Where the hell are they?"

Before any of them could reply, the clearing around him broke out into chaos. A blast of energy streaked by him and collided with one of the SUVs. The explosion rocked them all with the impact and Nicholas and his men fell to the ground.

It took him a moment to shake his stupor off, the smoke filling the air around them, and he climbed unsteadily to his feet. He used a hand to wipe the trickle of blood out of his eye from the new cut on his head. "Where-" he looked around frantically, but caught no sight of their attackers. He was silenced though when an invisible fist connected with his jaw, the blow resulting in an echoing crack and knocking him back down.

He groaned and tried to climb back to his feet, but a heavy foot pressed on his chest, holding him down. Nicholas forced himself not to cry out when the foot pressed harder, straining against his ribs. He was sure he heard a crack. His skin may not die the way a human body would, but it felt pain all the same.

Another energy blast knocked two of his men down. He watched in shock as they burst into little pieces of skin, floating in the smoke filled sky.

"It's Ava!" he called to his men, and brought his hands up, locking around the invisible ankle and twisting. The man on his chest fell down beside him with a loud thump. "Activate the tracer! She can't hold a mind warp if she's dead!"

Nicholas scrambled to his feet even as his captain pulled out the remote tracker. He braced himself for another hit from his invisible attacker. A beeping sound started from the tracker and Nicholas grinned. His grin vanished though when all of a sudden another fist connected with his jaw.

Nicholas didn't fall this time, but his vision blurred a bit. It finally cleared and he came face to face with the supremely angry face of a man that he'd already killed once before. Nicholas felt a chill down his spine momentarily, as if he'd seen a ghost; the face glaring back at him was not the spineless weasel that had been living on Earth for the last eighteen years. It was the spineless weasel who had commanded Antar's army.

"What's up Nick?" Rath hissed. His fist connected one more time and Nicholas distinctly felt his nose break before he fell to the ground.

* * *

The soldier with the tracker had a smirk on his face when he looked up at her, and she knew very suddenly that though he couldn't see her, he knew exactly where she was. Ava hesitated, her mind wracking through her options...should she hold the warp? Let it go? Try and knock him out with a blast of her own?

That was answered for her though when he raised a hand to send a blast directly at her. Ava gasped and tried to jump out of the way. Instead she collided with Max, and the energy blast hit the green shield that he threw up around them. The energy wave pressed down hard but Max's defense held strong; she couldn't help but sigh in relief.

She knew that she'd dropped the mind warp though, in her panic, and that they no longer had the luxury of being invisible. Ava quickly took stock of the scene around her, noting that Michael had dispelled two of the guards, and Rath was currently fighting it out with Nicholas. At least they leveled out the playing field a bit.

* * *

Liz Parker thought her lungs would soon burst from exertion but she continued to run, full out towards Jim Valenti's parked truck. The sheriff was hot on her tail as well, both of them seeking to dive behind the truck and get out of the line of fire. With no alien powers to speak of, Liz and Jim were largely helpless in the supercharged battle taking place in that lonely stretch of desert.

They weren't running away though, they were running towards the gun cache in Valenti's truck. "Do you know how to shoot?" Valenti asked her, thrusting a scary looking rifle into her hands. Liz shook her head quickly; she'd never touched a real gun in her life. Just that fake one the one time with Max... "If one of the bad guys comes near you, point it at him and shoot," he explained.

Liz nodded nervously and tried to get her breathing under control, watching Jim as he took out a high powered rifle with a massive scope on top of it. "Aim for the lower back," Liz told him, pointing out on her spine where the weak spot on the skins sat.

Jim nodded and propped his gun on the hood of the truck, taking aim at the battle. "I don't like to shoot people," he admitted to Liz. She clutched her gun to her chest with a quiver.

"They aren't people."

* * *

Michael hit the ground with a startled gasp, a charge of energy passing through what two seconds earlier would have been his chest. He didn't take time to dwell on that though, and instead raised a hand and sent an energy blast of his own. It hit the soldier head-on and knocked him down. Michael scrambled to his feet and ran at the other man. He preferred hand to hand combat anyway.

As he ran he caught a quick view of Isabel stopping a fist swinging at her head. She followed it up with a knee to the groin, and elbow to the head, and a kick to the back, effectively ending that particular Skin's day.

Michael's soldier was to his feet by the time Michael reached him, and they circled each other. The soldier eyed him confidently and threw the first punch.

Michael dodged, ducking low and hitting the man with a shot to the kidney--or, where the right kidney would be if he were human. It was a bad move on his part though, because the soldier didn't buckle over, but took the opportunity to raise his knee and make contact with Michael's nose.

The blinding flash of pain stunned him for a moment, and the soldier took that opportunity to hit him again, this time a hard blow to the eye. Michael wasn't able to block it and his vision blurred a bit. He shook his head to clear it, and spat out a mouthful of blood.

The soldier cried out in pain when Michael lunged and grabbed his arm, twisting it back and dislocating the shoulder. The man could barely move from the pain, and Michael took that opportunity to hit back, his fist connecting solidly with the other man's jaw. Before the soldier could cry out again Michael kicked his legs out from under him. He spat one more mouthful of blood out and then brought his foot down hard on the man's spine, finishing the skin off. The body beneath his foot turned to dust, and his boot came down onto sand.

Ava's scream pierced through his consciousness and he forced all thoughts of his broken nose out of his head.

* * *

Max pushed Ava roughly out of the way and then lunged at the soldier holding the transmitter. The skin's eyes widened and he held up an arm at the very last second, blocking Max's punch, and parrying with one of his own.

Ava stumbled slightly but managed to regain her footing and looked around, checking to see if the coast was clear for her to try and put the mind warp back up. Seeing no soldiers in her immediate vicinity, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, preparing to--

She was knocked off of her feet and thrown, as easily as if she were a rag doll, by the energy burst thrown at her from a soldier that she hadn't seen approaching. Ava hit the ground hard, heard the sickening crack, and felt the blinding rush of pain from her now-broken femur.

A cry escaped her lips before she could stop it, and she felt a little lightheaded. Through her blurry vision she could vaguely see the soldier striding towards her, and Michael running her way.

'STOP!' she cried out mentally to the soldier. To her surprise, he did. He grabbed at his head and almost buckled to the ground in pain.

The not-so-distant sound of a gunshot rang out, and Ava thought she heard the hissing sound of lead flying through the air. And then the soldier burst into nothing more than pieces of dust, floating gracefully to the ground and mixing into the sound. She breathed a sigh of relief and then Michael reached her side, and helped her to her feet.

* * *

Rath remembered very distinctly the last time that he'd felt the kind of rage and anger that he did at that exact moment. It was sixty years before, standing on a corpse littered battlefield in Antar's Capital City. And just like the last time, Rath found himself wanting nothing more than to hear the satisfying snap of Nicholas's neck, feel the slackening of his limbs, and see the deadness sweep over his eyes.

He spat a mouthful of blood out on the sand, and dodged a strike from the Skin General. Nicholas sneered at him and kicked his feet out from under him. Rath hit the ground, the wind getting knocked out of him. He tried to climb back up but then he felt Nicholas pushing into his mind, ripping through his head.

And then he felt the agony of metal ripping through skin, heard the sickening, slick sound of a knife sliding into his stomach. He saw a glint of silver and Nicholas's evil smirk.

Rath screamed.

* * *

Max was winning, he knew it distinctly as he managed to connect another blow to the soldiers torso. The transmitter fell to the ground and the soldier groaned in pain. Max told himself not to smile, not to get too cocky.

And then he heard Rath. The raw, tortured cry echoed seemingly through the entire desert, ringing in both his ears and through his mind. The human in Max felt sickened by the knowledge of someone being in that much pain. He turned toward his fallen comrade, wanting to do something, to _help_.

A rough hand pulled him back, and Max spun around just in time to see a fist flying at him. Then everything went black.

* * *

All motion seemed to stop, for a moment, as Rath's cry washed over all of them. Ava grabbed at her head and Isabel looked like she might throw up. Beside Jim, Liz Parker gasped at the sight of her husband falling to the ground. He didn't move.

But Jim Valenti didn't hesitate. He took aim and fired his gun. Once. Twice. Both shots hit their marks, and the soldiers that Michael and Isabel were now grappling with drifted away in the wind.

Rath's hands closed feebly around the hilt of the knife that was buried in his gut. The initial shock of pain had subsided now, and Nicholas had pulled out of Rath's mind. The reason for that became clear when Rath looked up. Nicholas was looking around, surveying the battlefield in concern: he clearly didn't like what he was seeing there.

"Your guys are all little bits of skin now Nicky," Rath ground out, the amusement in his voice obvious.

"Your weak human body is dying _General_," Nicholas countered distastefully, turning his attention back to Rath. "It's such a shame really, they're just so _fragile_."

Rath laughed humorlessly and spat out a mouthful of blood. His hands closed around the knife again, and Rath knew that the only thing keeping him from bleeding out was the fact that the knife was still lodged in his stomach.

* * *

Michael left Isabel to help Ava and hurried over to where Nicholas's last soldier was now towering over Max. As he ran he caught sight of Rath and Nicholas, and briefly considered going to help his Dupe first. It took Michael only a second to make the choice though; and sent a bolt of energy at the soldier leaning down over their King.

'If Max dies then we can't help Rath anyway,' he told himself as justification.

* * *

"I've been on this planet a long time now," Nicholas circled Rath's prone body as he spoke. "And I've grown so weary of this plague of men. They're like an infestation of rodents, you know: crawling over one another to get to higher ground. They have no concept of pride or honour at all." He knelt down over Rath, one foot on either side of the soldier's hips, and pulled his gun out of its holster. Rath winced when he pressed the cool barrel against his temple. "They live their lives and die their deaths and are driven only by their _sins_.

There is no concept there for the Greater Good, for the ideals that we conduct_ our_ affairs by. They're too easily corrupted, and motivated by greed. You won't make it back to Antar; your body will rot here, just like that two-timing bitch of yours."

"She wouldn't have gone with you anyway," Rath said cooly but confidently.

Nicholas paused then and, sensing a soft spot, pulled the gun back, uncocked it and rested his elbows on his knees. "I was tired of her anyway," he sneered. "She really was the worst kind of human: far too mouthy. Luckily we have a much more amiable spare." Rath felt his cheeks burn in fury when Nicholas looked past him at Isabel, a look of desperation and longing in his eyes.

Rath wouldn't let it happen, he swore it to himself for Lonnie and Is and even Michael.

They'd had a plan for today, for this battle, and Nicholas was supposed to be kept alive to be used as a bargaining chip. But Rath was going to change that plan, because damned if he would let scum like him, or _Khivar_, get their hands on either of his girls again.

So determined was he in his new plan that Rath forced himself to ignore the pain as he withdrew the knife from his stomach, even as it scraped and snagged his already ravaged insides. His grip was firm, steady on the hilt of the knife and he brought his arm up. "Sometimes," he said to Nicholas, catching the cocky man's attention again. "Us mere humans are motivated by revenge."

He ran the knife hard against Nicholas's throat, slashing the jugular and spilling a gush of useless red blood. Nicholas's eyes widened in surprise and he dropped the gun onto the sand, instinctively bringing both hands to his neck, though he couldn't actually die from a slit throat.

Rath ignored the flowing blood that began to blanket his chest, mixing with his own, useful, blood that leaked faster out of the stab wound in his stomach. He took the opportunity to bring the hilt of the knife down onto Nicholas's spine, and sighed in satisfaction as the Skin general went the way of his followers, and disappeared into the desert breeze.

* * *

Michael reached the soldier and delivered a swift kick to his chest, knocking him down onto the ground once again. He caught a quick view of Nicholas towering over Rath's fallen body. It distracted him and Michael barely managed to get out of the way of the bolt of energy that the soldier threw, hitting the ground roughly just in time to miss getting hit.

He coughed around the mouthful of sand and dust that he swallowed. Isabel cried out suddenly and left Ava's side in a hurry, running towards Rath. Michael frowned and twisted his head around to see what was wrong, discovering his Dupe lying in a pool of blood and no more Nicholas.

His immediate reaction was joyous, because he was glad that the asshole was dead. But then he remembered the plan, that they might need him alive as a bargaining chip.

The soldier he was fighting suddenly dropped to the ground, unconscious. Michael looked up in surprise to find Ava there. She tapped a finger (from her unbroken arm) to her temple at his confused expression. "I think we're going to need him alive."

"Max?" Michael asked her.

"He's coming around," Ava told him, looking over his shoulder to where Isabel sat beside Rath, frantically trying to apply pressure to his wound. Liz and Jim were now running over too, the rifle strapped to the sheriff's back. "Rath's..."

"Go," Michael told her, climbing to his feet. "I'll bring Max over." Ava nodded and hurried away.

* * *

Rath was beginning to feel very cold, and the world around him seemed to be slowing down. He could see Isabel running towards him, but he was in too much pain to enjoy the slow-motion view that presented itself. She slid to her knees beside him, a puff of sand and dust creating a cloud around them, settling against the sticky blood that was pooling.

"I...j-just hang on," she told him, her voice cracking. Her hands moved around, not sure where to touch him. He coughed and a new rush of blood began to seep out of the hole in his torso. Now decided, she pulled her sweater up over her head and wadded it up, pressing it to the wound. "Max is coming."

Ava joined them then, sliding to her knees on his other side. Rath felt her pick up his hand and hold it tightly in her small ones; he squeezed back gratefully.

"Avey," he managed to get out. "I-I killed him. I'm sorry--it wasn't the plan."

"You did good," Ava assured him, her voice the soft melodic tune that he remembered from their childhood. She'd always been able to comfort him then, but it was so very long ago. He saw tears start to creep down from her wide eyes as she took in his wounds. "R-real good."

Liz Parker and Jim Valenti ran up, both breathing heavily. Her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of all of the blood. "Oh my god," she gasped and paled a bit.

Rath sent her a weak, humorless grin. "I hate to say I told you so," he gestured with his one free hand. He had told her though; not all of them were going to make it. Liz's lip quivered a bit and she averted her eyes.

"I think he's starting to come to!" Michael's cry caught all of their attention and they all looked to see him struggling to run over while supporting a half-conscious Max. Liz hurried to help them and Jim turned to the last Skin, who was still knocked out, keeping the shotgun trained on him.

They brought Max over and helped him kneel beside Ava. The King looked alert now, but still woozy. Rath coughed again and Isabel's sweater started to stain through with dark blood.

"Max!" her voice came out panicky. Rath saw his vision start to dim a bit, but he shook his head and tried very hard to focus on what was going on around him. "You have to help him. He's going to die!"

Max nodded and, though he still looked unnaturally pale, held his shaking hands over the wound and tried to heal it. They all waited hopefully. Rath couldn't feel his feet now.

Max frowned and squeezed his eyes shut in concentration. Rath felt a slight tingling in his stomach, knew that the blood spilling slowed a tad, but that it wasn't enough.

Max sighed in exhaustion and pressed a sticky red palm to his temple before trying again. "Stop," Rath's voice sounded low and husky in his own ears, and the others looked at him in surprise. Max sighed again, almost in relief this time. "It's okay man. I know you can't."

"I-I can," Max shook his head stubbornly. "Let me try again--"

"You're tapped," Rath pointed out, his eyes straying to the smear of his blood across Max's temple. "You're a dead battery right now, and I don't have enough time for you to charge up. It's okay."

"What? No," Liz shook her head. "What about the healing stones? Let's try them. They could work!"

"No," Michael said quietly, voicing Rath's thoughts out loud. "They won't work."

"How do you know?"

"I just know," they both replied together.

"Maybe we could bring him to a hospital?" Liz trailed off quietly, knowing that it was not an option.

They were all silent then. They all waited.

* * *

Isabel was sickened at the thought of sitting there, watching him die. The man with Michael's face, that she'd lived a lifetime with. Blood soaked the knees of her jeans, and made her palms slick and sticky, but she refused to leave his side. It felt like an age that they sat there, but in reality it was only minutes. Not enough time to drive to a hospital, or for Max to recuperate, or even to recharge the Granolith. Just not enough time. Isabel also knew, deep down in her bones, that Rath didn't come into this fight thinking he'd live through it. He was a broken man now, and he was willing to sacrifice himself. What did he have left to live for anyway, with her gone?

She could feel Michael behind her, his hand resting steadily on her shoulder, and didn't care that the others were seeing her cry. Ava was crying too though, soft breathless sobs that made her delicate shoulders shake slowly. Max still looked shaken, and Liz looked haunted.

Rath began to shake from the massive blood loss. Isabel reached out and smoothed a hand through his hair, soothing him. His eyes opened and caught hers, taking her breath away a little, and he smiled more warmly than she'd ever seen in that body before. He wasn't really looking at _her_ though.

"Lon?" he mumbled, blinking rapidly to keep focused on her. "Baby I don't feel so good..."

Isabel felt her breath catch, knew he was delusional. Ava's sob cut through her head like a knife and Rath turned to her in surprise. "Avey?" he asked, just realizing that she was there. "What's going on? What's wrong with you?"

Ava shook her head and faked a smile. Isabel's heart broke for her, because Rath was all that she had left of her Earth family. "I'm fine," Ava lied. "But...but I owe you a birthday present. What do you want? Anything in the whole world."

Rath's head lolled woozily. "I--" he grimaced in pain suddenly, and Isabel saw his eyes clear, reality slapping him hard. He knew what was happing now, and he eyed Isabel sadly. "I just wish I was home."

Ava nodded still holding onto his hand tightly and then closed her eyes. The sand and sky around them melted away, being replaced by a sparsely furnished tunnel. It was the Dupes New York home, with the pod chambers nestled in the wall, and Isabel knew that Ava was doing her best to bring Rath home. Despite his pain, he managed a smile for her and mumbled something that was most likely a thank-you.

They saw him looking around at them in a panic, beginning to once again loose his grip on reality. 'The blood loss must have put his body into shock,' she realized. She knew what he needed now, what he wanted more than anything.

Isabel reached a shaking hand up and passed it up across her face and down her hair. Once she was done she had a nose ring, dark makeup, and shorter, chopped hair. Rath's eyes locked onto her face again and he smiled.

"I though you were gone," he sighed, his hand coming up and cupping her cheek.

"I'm here," she assured him. His palm was hot and sticky against her skin. "I'm not going anywhere."

Rath closed his eyes, looking as content as he could in the circumstances, and took a deep breath. Isabel moaned in surprise at the flash that hit her: the images that came through from him, and the emotions that washed over her in pulsating waves. She could feel her chest moving in tandem with the waves, with the images filling her mind: _skin, sheets, roaming hands, fingers leaving trails of glowing light, the sweet tang of whiskey, the salt of tears, soft lips, moist tongues, trails of sweat, glistening and inked skin, whispered I Love Yous..._

She released a strangled moan of ecstasy, her breath coming out in short puffs now, toes curling up in her shoes. The flash had ended --everything had ended--with a mental bang and she was thrust back into the hot, disguised desert.

Isabel opened her eyes and confirmed what she already knew inside: Rath was still now. He'd felt the flash too, and then he felt nothing at all. She and Ava both sobbed and Max stared at the ground uncomfortably. Michael averted his eyes, running a hand across the base of her neck in a comforting and intimate gesture.

She sighed and then leaned forward, resting her forehead to Rath's. Tears dripped from her cheeks and she pressed a kiss to his lips. A goodbye.

* * *

Max dropped the last shovel of sand and proceeded to pat it down with the flat side of the spade. Then he placed the stones on the grave, making two distinct shapes: the four square symbol, and the curved, scythe shaped symbol representing the word _soldier_.

They'd buried him in the sand, at the foot of the pod chamber: the closest they could get to both worlds. Max had volunteered to dig, having felt so much guilt over not being able to save him.

The others were feeling guilt as well, and a lot more sorrow then they ever would have thought. Jim was keeping guard over the soldier that they had trussed up in the new SUV, while Liz sat with Ava a ways away, trying to comfort the girl who'd just lost the last member of her Earth family.

Max didn't look for his sister; he knew that she was with Michael in the pod chamber. The last he'd seen of them was when Michael pulled her frame into his chest, hugging her tightly and letting her cry into him. Isabel was taking the loss pretty roughly; unable to contend with watching the death of someone that was so important to her in her last life, but who also looked exactly like someone that meant so much to her in this one.

He was also pretty sure that she'd seen something in the flash more than what she was saying, but he knew enough not to pry.

That day had just made it obvious for Max Evans though: something was definitely going on between his sister and his best friend.

* * *

They found the communicator where Nicholas had left it, on the passenger seat of the Range Rover. It had the drop-zone coordinates programmed into it already, and a time. 0400 hours.

Isabel tried not to think too much about the view outside of the moving truck, the flat expanse of dessert that had been her home for twenty years, that she'd never see again. She didn't think about the skin bound and gagged in the trunk, or about the van that Michael had burned

An electronic voice cut through the silence in the truck, making her jump a bit in surprise. "In half a mile, turn right," Valenti's GPS chirped out from its position on the dash beside Max. Other than that there was silence--everyone was lost in concentration, running over the battle, the plan, what was coming up. Or, like Isabel was, they kept replaying over and over in their minds what had happened to Rath. How they'd lost another soldier.

To Isabel's left Ava was leaning against her tinted window, eyes closed to the world. Isabel knew that she wasn't really sleeping though, from the quick, uneven breaths that she was struggling to control. On her right side Michael sat quietly, staring stonily at the back of the passenger seat.

Isabel didn't know what to do, or say. She was just there--trying to figure out what tomorrow was going to bring them. In just sixteen hours they would be on their way _home_. The Vilandra in her was accepting of it--the Isabel in her was terrified. They'd be leaving so much behind.

Sixteen hours to go...and they still had so much to do before they went.

She must have sighed, or maybe she just looked shell-shocked. Or maybe he just _knew_. Michael silently lifted an arm and slung it around her shoulders. She leaned into his side gratefully, her eyes slipping shut as he pressed a kiss to her temple and closed his eyes.

Isabel reached her hand to Ava's and caught her smaller one, intertwining their fingers. They all began to relax, for the time being, knowing that they'd need their rest. In the front seats Max drove on, and Liz stared out of her window thoughtfully. Valenti followed behind in his truck. And Isabel let herself slip into sleep.

She dreamed of home.

* * *

Maryann Weston had the distinction of working in one of the busier morgues in the United States. At least, considering the fact that she worked the overnight shift in a place full of dead people, her job was about as lively as it could get for someone who performed autopsies. 'Thank-you Sin City,' she always thought, a little sardonically.

It wasn't exactly like they liked to portray it on CSI, but Las Vegas was indeed brimming with strange and unusual murders. At least it kept her busy.

She wasn't terribly used to getting nighttime visitors, besides the occasional orderly or police officer coming in with a newly dead corpse for her to look at. So when two FBI agents came in, badges out and questions up, she was a little surprised. But she greeted them handily enough, and helped to answer their questions about a missing couple they were investigating.

"We've got a couple of John and Jane's," she offered, once she realized that none of her identified corpses were the people they were looking for. "You're welcome to have a look, see if you can make an identification."

"Why thank-you Doctor..."

"Weston," she replied. "Maryann Weston."

"Dr. Weston," the man nodded politely to her, smiling a friendly smile. He had the look of someone who'd been doing the job for many years; comfortable in the investigation and not easily deterred by not finding what he wanted right out of the gate. His partner was much younger--very young in fact, probably just out of the academy--a pretty little blonde thing who didn't say much, but smiled softly and stared a great deal.

"The Doe's are all through here," Maryann led the way to a storage area out of the main room. "Some of these have been here for a while now."

"What happens to the bodies if they're never identified?" the female agent asked, her voice a lot softer than Maryann would have expected. The doctor found that to be a strange question, but figured that if the girl really was new to this she'd probably never had to deal with a real John Doe case yet.

"Once the case file is closed the bodies will be cremated if no one identifies them," Maryann explained. "We have a couple of them here that I'm told their cases will be wrapped up soon." She gestured to a large set of filing cabinets lining the far wall. "We take a thorough inventory of any distinguishing or identifying marks in case they need to be compared to missing persons reports later. Unfortunately we just can't hold onto them until they're all identified; this is Las Vegas after all. People come here to be anonymous and sometimes they succeed."

She showed them each of the unidentified bodies, but none of them were the victims they were looking for.

"Thank-you for your time anyway Dr. Weston," the man shook her hand as she led them back out to the lobby area.

"Please let me know if there's anything else I can do to help," she told them. He pulled a card out of his jacket pocket and jotted something quickly on the back of it.

"Would you be able to give me a call if you have anyone come in matching these descriptions?" he asked and gave her a charming grin. "That'd be a mighty big help."

"Absolutely," she assured him, nodding for emphasis. "Good luck."

"Ma'am," he nodded and then led the female agent out.

Maryann watched them both go and then tucked the card into the pocket of her lab coat. Then she grabbed her empty coffee cup and made her way back to the staff room to make a new pot. 'This place will play with your mind if you're not careful,' she laughed to herself when she swore she heard the door open and then close--though she saw no one there and no signs of forced entry.

She topped her mug up with the hot beverage and made her way back to her office, blowing on it as she went. She never noticed that the door to the Doe room was slightly ajar, or that there were six less unidentified bodies in the morgue. Even if she had she would have doubted her memory, because the files no longer had any record of the missing corpses.

* * *

Liz Parker shivered in the cool breeze, hugging her arms around herself as a gust of wind blew grains of sand against her skin. Three in the morning was a cold time to be in the middle of the dessert, but it wasn't just the breeze that made her shiver though; it was watching her husband and his best friend load six strange dead bodies into the Range Rover. It chilled her to the bone in a way that the wind never could.

Max pointedly avoided looking into the faces of the corpses, and Michael kept his face stony the entire time, but Liz knew them both well enough to know how bothered they were by it. No matter what their new memories might have done to change their personalities.

'How did I even get here?' she asked herself probably for the thousandth time that day. She felt sick inside, as if she were some kind of twisted perversion of her former self. 'I used to want to be a scientist.'

"This will let you have whatever life you want," Ava's voice registered softly in her ears, reminding her what they were doing. Liz hated the fact, and hated that she was right. But she nodded anyway, because more than she hated it, she needed to hear it. They were doing the right thing for those of them that had a chance to start a whole new life. For Maria and Kyle too. "They're just bodies...the people that they were before, they've moved on already."

That truth helped to ground Liz, helped to allow her to push thoughts of grave robbers out of her head. Even when Ava and Isabel went over to help transform the bodies into the faces that Liz knew so well, she repeated that mantra to herself.

Seeing them there, her _dead_ friends, reminded her so much of the painful memories that she'd tried to forget once. So very long ago. Not for the first time Liz found herself wondering if it was all worth it...if he should have bothered saving her that day at the Crashdown. If things could have turned out different for all of them...

Then when they were all done they stepped back and watched Michael. He took a deep breath, and then sent a charge of energy at the truck. Liz had never seen that amount of energy come from anything before, not even him, and she knew that the Granolith had helped to give that power back to him. For the first time she was really seeing what they could do, what someone as powerful as Michael was capable of. It was awe inspiring. It was terrifying.

The truck slid and then flipped over from the impact, orange flames bursting forth to lick at the twisted metal, to burn the dead flesh inside. That was the plan, but the sight still brought tears to Liz's eyes. Or maybe that was the acrid smell.

Either way, as she stood there and watched it burn she could make out a face through the window, familiar. The same face that stared back at her in the mirror every day.

She wanted out.

"Miles to go before I sleep..."

She stood and watched as Liz Parker burned.

* * *

Max wasn't sure what to expect when their ride came at four. Would there be another battle? How many skins were inside, waiting for them? Would Larek's men be strong enough to fight them off, would they be able to help the Royal Four get home alive?

Michael ordered them to take battle positions just in case, and so they found themselves crouched behind Jim's truck and the burnt SUV for cover. Max refused to let himself look through the charred windows, refused to find his own face amongst the bodies inside.

Instead he kept his eyes trained to the sky, waiting. If he was honest, he wasn't sure what he was waiting for exactly. Would it be like Star Trek--would they just beam down to meet them? Or would a ship actually touch down, full of smoke and big metal hangar doors like in ET?

Several lights appeared in the sky, miles up and possibly from an airplane. Max activated the communicator, sending a beacon out. The communicator began to glow, receiving something, and the lights in the sky began to get closer.

"I can't believe it's almost over," Liz said quietly, from where she was seated on the sand beside him. Max looked down at her slowly, and then knelt beside her.

"Liz--"

"It's been a while coming though, hasn't it?" her eyes were very sad, tears welling up in them. But she looked oddly relieved. He knew how much of a toll the whole thing had taken on her, knew better than anyone how hard it had been for her to develop powers and then see them slowly melt away. To have to see everything slowly move away from her.

"I'm...sorry," he finally said with a resolute and regretful sigh. "I'm just _so_ sorry. I-I don't..."

"No Max," she was crying now, but she held his hand and smiled anyway. "I'm alive because of you. You gave me so much. I wouldn't change _any_ of it."

"I really do love you," he told her, trying very hard not to cry. "You have to know that. Marrying you...it was the best thing that I've ever done. I just...I know that my life has to be about more than just what we want in each other. And now that I remember Antar--what we left behind--I can't imagine not going back there. I'm sorry Liz."

"I'm not," she surprised him. "I'll always love you Max, but I know that we don't really belong together. I've known that since the day I found a thirty-five year old version of you in my room. He said that you weren't strong enough to fight this war without Tess, and we know that's true. We never would have made it this far without her, or Ava. We both know that you love me, but you loved her too. And the part of you that isn't _just_ Max...he loves Ava. That's just not enough for me anymore. All three of us deserve something more than that, don't you think?"

Max's heart broke a little, though he knew absolutely that she was right. He would always love her, but the part of him that had just woken up, all of Zan's memories...they couldn't imagine a life without Ava. It was something that he'd been fighting for weeks, since he'd found her that day in New York, but after the Granolith he couldn't deny it any longer. He didn't want to. Max Evans' human love for Liz Parker was strong but he'd never experienced the all-consuming need that Zan had felt for Ava. It was beyond what his human side could understand; but apparently, not beyond what Liz could understand.

He hugged her then, even as the lights above fell closer and closer to them. "What about you Liz? What are you going to do?"

She pulled away slightly, just enough to look up at him. "We've got a plan." Max didn't question that, because he got the impression that she didn't want to elaborate. So he nodded and kissed her one last time before the ship touched down.

* * *

Surak waited impatiently, his blaster ready in hand, for the shuttle to land. He and his people had waited a long time to find Antar's Royal Four, and even longer to bring them back home again. Surak had volunteered his service to the mission, going undercover with dozens more of Larek's men for almost thirty years, embedding themselves deep in Khivar's skin army. Surak grew up on Magna, in the age of Soren, and was raised to believe in the peace accord with Antar. He did his training with Larek, Zan and Rath, and knew that they were worth fighting for.

And now he would finally see his old friends again. He rejoiced in it. Still, the scan from the shuttle revealed that there was one remaining skin with the royal family, and two humans; he kept his blaster at the ready just in case.

The fear was in vain though, and once the shuttle doors opened he lowered the blaster quickly. Surak stepped out and greeted his friends, the two humans, and one bound skin soldier. He wasn't able to stop the smile that appeared when he saw them, and when they recognized him.

"Surak," Zan greeted him warmly, pressing their forearms together in the customary interplanetary greeting. "It is good to see you again, old friend."

"And you my lord," Surak assured him and then greeted Rath in the same manor. He bowed to Vilandra and Ava. "Our galaxy has been hoping to see you for these last sixty years now. I am proud to help bring you home."

Surak was introduced to the two humans, creatures who seemed to be substantially less advanced than their Antarian friends, but who had proved to be valiant soldiers in the fight. "You are helping to bring peace to an entire galaxy," he assured the wizened male. "On behalf of my king, Larek, and the people of Magna, I thank-you." The man blushed a shade of pink and the young woman averted her eyes shyly. He found them charming.

"King Larek's vessel is in orbit," he explained to Zan. "Our shuttle will meet with it once we break the atmosphere. I have been advised that our departure should not be delayed, as the vessel detected communications from some of Earth's air defense systems. An air sweep is expected over these coordinates at 0500 hours local time."

"Understood," Rath replied with a nod. "We can't have the air force detecting the shuttle tonight," he told the human man. "We don't need another Roswell on our hands."

"No," the man smiled. "We certainly don't."

"I will allow you to say your good-byes," Surak told the Royal Four. "To your good fortune," he bowed to the two humans and led the skin back into the shuttle.

* * *

"Is everyone clear on the plan then?" Max asked, the light peeking out of the shuttle illuminating his face a series of different colours. They all nodded silently. The awkwardness of it all was palpable. It pained them all.

"Are you sure sheriff?" Liz looked up at him with wide, liquid eyes. "You're going to have to..."

"I can give you a new life too," Ava told him sincerely. "If you want it."

Jim shook his head and smiled, a wise, knowing grin that they would come to understand one day. "No," he assured her. "Someone has to know the whole story, right? Someone has to remember you--to do us all justice. I'm not willing to give that up."

They said their good-byes then; Max hugged his human wife last, for much longer than the others had, and a part of Ava flinched at the sight. That went away quickly though, because she knew exactly what the girl would be giving up.

Then, it was Ava's turn. She'd been saving her energy up since the trip to the morgue earlier that day; she knew that she would need it for this.

"Are you sure?" she asked Liz, her eyes searching the other girl's face for any signs of doubt.

Liz nodded confidently and cast one last look at the group around them. "Just..." she held Ava's eyes pleadingly with her own. "Please let me be happy?"

Ava grabbed her hand reassuringly. "Don't worry Liz Parker," she promised, moving her hands up to rest against the sides of Liz's face. "You're going to have a _great_ life."

Ava closed her eyes and changed the girl's memories. She was determined to give her some happy ones.

* * *

Michael helped Valenti lower Liz's unconscious body into the passenger seat of his truck, and buckled her in. For the first time in as long as he could remember, Liz Parker looked at peace. He found himself pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear, and then closed the car door.

Valenti gave him a fatherly clap on the shoulder. "Time to go kid," the sheriff, their adversary-turned-closest-ally told him. Michael nodded and ignored the lump in his throat. Valenti pulled the younger man into a hug and Michael hugged back in relief.

Jim Valenti was the closest thing to a father figure Michael had had on this planet, and he appreciated it more than he could say. He'd risked a lot to save those aliens, even lost his only son.

"You're going to great things son," Jim assured him. "I know you are. The four of you just have to stick together."

"Thank-you," he always was a man of few words. "Just...thank-you."

Valenti hugged the others too and watched as they all piled onto the shuttle. Michael stood with Isabel as the doors closed, taking in one last breath of air on Earth. The last thing they saw, before the metal slid closed, was Jim waving, a proud and reassuring smile on his face.

* * *

"How many days has it been?"

Michael looked at her. "Eight hundred and fifty three," he told her. Then he dipped his head down and kissed her. His skin tingled with the contact, and he saw flashes of stars and light.

"But now we're going home," she smiled, pressing her forehead to his. He smiled back and nodded.

"Yeah, now we're going home."

"We just have one stop to make first," Max announced loudly as he made his way to the cockpit with Surak and Ava.

"We do?" Surak asked in surprise.

"We're going to bring the Granolith home," Max told them all. "It will be safe with Larek on Magna, and it is the first step to bringing peace to our galaxy." Max handed Surak the communicator. "These are the coordinates."

"Aye sir," Surak nodded, pointing the shuttle westward.

* * *

Isabel sat down beside a large viewing window in her quarters, staring out over the planet below them, movie farther and farther away as their ship began its journey back to Antar. She could no longer make out what was dessert and what was not, the dark earth blending in with the dark oceans, and only specks of light illuminating the planet.

Stars and the empty vastness of space appeared around them. She pressed her fingers to the glass and smiled. "Beautiful," Michael said softly, watching over her shoulder. She turned to him and smiled.

He sat down with her, seemingly surrounding her as only he could do. Her hand wrapped tightly around the pendant resting against her clavicle, the moonstone warming under her touch. She closed her eyes, blocking out the stars, when his hand began to stroke the length of her hair. She smiled.

"Are you afraid?" she asked him, eyes still closed and enjoying the sensation.

"No," he replied quickly.

"Liar," she teased, opening her eyes to catch his gaze.

"I'm not," he assured her. "I've got everything I need. Everything I could ever want. Why would I be afraid?"

"They might take it all away again," she suggested.

"No, Is, they _won't_." She realized that she'd needed to hear that. That reassurance. "Are _you_ afraid?"

"I'm only afraid that the people I love won't trust me," she told him honestly. "That they'll think I betrayed them; that you'll worry that I'll do it again."

He kissed her. Short and sweet.

"Isabel," he told her, sending sparks of electricity in a delicious trail across her skin. "I trust you more than anyone I know. And I will spend every one of my lifetimes loving you."

She nodded against his forehead, barely noticing the tracks of salt that made their way down her cheeks.

"I love you too."

Fin.


	11. Epilogue

Epilogue

_A/N: This is the end my friends...its whole purpose is really to wrap up the final loose ends for what I didn't finish in the last chapter. Mostly those on Earth...Thanks to everyone for sticking with it! I heart my reviewers!_

Greg Sharpton sighed and finished zipping up the last body bag. He'd just done autopsies on a group of six young people--barely legals--that had been found in a burnt and rolled SUV in the dessert earlier that afternoon. Sometimes he hated his job.

Greg gathered up his clipboards and headed towards his office. He just about hit the roof when he saw a man--alive--poke his head into the room. "Sorry," the intruder apologized quickly, holding his hands up to show he meant no harm. "I didn't mean to spook you...there was no one up front..."

"No, no," Greg chucked a bit in embarrassment. "It's fine. Sorry, I didn't hear you come in."

"That's okay," he nodded, looking rather depressed. People who came to the morgue usually were.

"Can I help you with something?"

"I got a call from your sheriff," the man explained. "He said that they've made a positive ID on a few missing persons cases that my town had opened. I'm Sheriff Jim Valenti."

"Valenti?" Greg paused, remembering the last name. "Right...one of the kids..."

"My son Kyle," Jim finished sadly. "I guess I was hoping that he'd made a mistake when he called."

"I'm sorry," Greg told him sincerely. "I've just done the autopsies now. We were able to make a positive ID on all six victims."

"What killed them?"

"Their car rolled and crashed," Greg explained, consulting his clipboards. "Miss uh...De Luca broke her neck in the crash and would have died instantly. The others experienced various broken bones and other minor abrasions, but they would have succumbed to smoke inhalation when the vehicle caught fire. I'm very sorry Sheriff."

He nodded uncomfortably. "Would I be able to see them?" Valenti finally asked. "I've got four other families back home that will want to know that I made sure."

"Of course," Greg led the way back to where he'd just finished zipping up the body bags. He uncovered the faces, one by one, for the Sheriff. Liz Parker. Max Evans. Isabel Evans. Michael Guerin. Maria De Luca. And finally, Kyle Valenti.

The sheriff paused at his son's corpse, reaching out and stroking his hair gently once before nodding to Greg. "Thank-you," he ran a hand over his face, looking rather unstable. "I'm sorry...it's just...small town, you know. I knew all of these kids."

"I understand," Greg assured him. "I'm very sorry for your loss."

"When can I take them back to Roswell?" Valenti asked. "For the funerals?"

"There are a few forms that will need to be filled out," Greg explained, leading him to the office. "And the local sheriff will need to sign off on the case before we can release the bodies..."

* * *

The first thing that she noticed, when she regained consciousness, was the smell.

All hospital's had a very distinctive smell.

She opened her eyes slowly, and was not surprised to find that she was indeed lying in a hospital room, her arm hooked up to an IV. Her hands felt clumsy and childish as she brought them to her eyes, rubbing away the fatigue with her fists.

A familiar figure sat on a chair beside her bed, his head lolled back, fast asleep, and at an awkward angle. The tousled blonde hair stuck up in every direction and made her smile. She reached over and put a hand on his knee, shaking him awake.

He groaned and then, realizing where he was, snapped his head up with a wince at the change in angles. She chuckled.

"Brody?" she asked him, her voice sounding a little horse from misuse. "What happened?"

He ran a hand over his stiff neck and tossed her an amused look. "I spent the night sleeping in a chair, that's what happened."

"Ha ha," she replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes a little. "I mean what happened to _me_? Why am I in the hospital?"

"Oh right, _that_," he teased. "Well, what's the last thing you remember?"

She paused and thought about that. "I..." her fingers started to drum against her leg as she searched her memory. It felt as if there was something that she just couldn't quite remember...she looked down at her fingers. She could swear that the skin on her ring finger was paler than the rest, like she'd been wearing something there. She frowned. Brody watched her hand warily and reached out to still her fingers. And then it was like someone just came along and filled in the blanks. "Oh, there was a fire...I think."

"That's right," Brody nodded, swallowing pointedly and looking relieved that she remembered. "There was a fire in our hotel room and you were knocked unconscious. The doctor's say you'll be fine, though maybe some small memory loss surrounding the actual event. That's what I get for taking you to Las Vegas."

"Wow," she sighed. "I guess I'm lucky then. Was anyone else hurt?"

"No," he assured her. "Everyone's fine. I feel mighty guilty for taking you here in the first place though."

"It's not your fault," she tried to assure him but was interrupted when a middle-aged doctor came into the room.

"Look who's awake!" the doctor greeted them cheerily. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel fine," she assured him.

"That's good to hear," the doctor said, pulling a pen out of the pocket of his white coat. He held it in front of her eyes. "I'm Jim and I'm just going to do a quick check and make sure everything's okay. Can you follow this pen for me?" He moved it back and forth and watched her eye movements. "Looks good...your pupils look normal, so that's a good sign. Are you having any trouble with your memory?"

"I don't think so..."

"Let's try a few questions then," he suggested, his smile warm and oddly familiar. She found that he made it easy for her to relax. "What's your name?"

"Liz Davis," she replied immediately. Easy.

"And how old are you Liz?"

"Twenty-one."

"And who's this guy right here?" Jim asked, nodding towards Brody.

"Brody...my step-brother."

"And what do you do for a living Liz?"

"I-I was a waitress," she remembered, frowning slightly. "But I'm supposed to be starting school in the fall."

"What are you going to be taking?" Jim asked, picking up a clipboard and making a few notes.

"Astronomy I think," she replied. "I like science...and space."

"Something we have in common," Brody teased her. Liz smiled.

"And where do you live?" Jim asked her. Liz frowned.

"Uh..." she hesitated. Her fingers began to drum against her leg again as she tried to remember. Jim looked a little wary.

"New York City," Brody told her. "Remember?"

Liz sighed. That _did_ sound familiar. "Right," she stopped drumming and pushed her hair behind her ear with an embarrassed laugh. "Of course."

"That's okay," Jim assured her. "It's normal to experience a bit of memory loss after a blow to the head. I'm not worried, it'll all start to come back to you in a few days. Mr. DavisDavis I think it's okay for you to take your sister home now."

"Really?" Liz asked, relieved. Brody nodded and climbed to his feet, shaking Jim's hand.

"Thank-you doctor," he said seriously, sharing a very pointed look with the older man. Jim clapped him on the back and then reached out to shake Liz's hand too.

"You take care of yourself Liz," he told her warmly. For some reason that she couldn't explain, Liz felt very comforted by this man. His smile seemed familiar, and she was _sure_ that she knew him. Spurred on by the familiarity Liz dropped his hand and leaned in to give him a hug; something she would never normally do to a doctor. He hesitated a second but then hugged him back.

"Thank-you," she said seriously once they'd pulled away. She glanced at his name tag. "Doctor...Valenti."

* * *

He was the crab from the Little Mermaid. At least in _this_ dream anyway. He found himself weaving through a maze of pots, pans, cooking utensils and various vegetables, all in an effort to avoid getting chopped by the chef's big butcher knife. "Zut alors!"

"Why are you a crab?" her achingly familiar voice cut through his dream. Crab-him stopped running and looked to his left, where a beautiful girl in a white gown stood watching him amusedly.

"I identify with Sebastian," he shrugged, feeling himself transform into his natural shape as he did it. Now he was sitting on a counter, half on a pot, and the chef had totally disappeared. "We both have a way with the ladies."

She laughed. It sounded just the way that he remembered it sounding. "Am I dreaming you here, or..."

"No," she shook her head. "I'm checking up on you. I just want to make sure you're both doing okay."

"We're okay," he assured her. "I saw the Roswell Gazette online though...didn't realize that I'd died. I guess you can't believe everything you read on the internet."

She smiled. "It was the only way to ensure the three of you got a fresh start, and that the government stopped looking for the rest of us."

"We figured that. I mean, we didn't call home to tell them otherwise," he shrugged and climbed off of the counter. He came to stand face to face with her, and reached a finger out to poke her shoulder. "Huh. I didn't think I'd be able to touch you."

She shrugged. "It's your dream," she reminded him. "You must have wanted to be able to."

"What happened Isabel?" he asked, serious for the first time now. "Are you guys okay?"

"We're great," she assured him warmly. "We're on our way _home_. Nicholas and his men on Earth have been defeated. And the government now thinks that we're all dead, so no one will be looking for you anymore."

"Wow..."

"It was the best we could do for you," she looked sad now. "I just wish that you guys were able to go home again. I'm sorry."

"No, don't...things here are pretty great," he assured her, grabbing her hand in his. She didn't feel warm, or cool...and he had to remind himself that she wasn't _really_ standing there. "How's Lizzy? Do we need to find her?"

Isabel shook her head and smiled faintly. "Liz is taken care of," she promised. "Your dad set everything up."

"My dad, the alien helper," he joked, feeling a pang of loss at the thought of him. "I don't suppose it's safe for me to give him a call."

"Well _you're_ supposed to be dead," she reminded him. He nodded at that and then noticed that the room around him seemed to flicker.

"What was that?"

"You're waking up," she pointed out, squeezing his fingers tightly in hers.

"No! I want to see you some more," he shook his head, panic taking over as the room flickered again, and various pots and pans began to vanish all together. "We have so much to talk about."

"I'll check in on you guys," she promised him, her eyes welling up a bit. "Every now and then."

"But what if we need to get in touch?" he worried. "What if my powers start to appear, or if someone starts following us?"

"You're going to be okay," she promised him, pulling him in for a hug while she still had the chance. He squeezed back, closing his eyes tightly and burying his face in the softness of her hair. She didn't feel like Isabel, didn't smell like her either. "If you need help get in touch with Brody. He's a direct line to someone who can help."

He nodded into her shoulder and then pulled back to look at her face one last time. "I can't believe I didn't cop a feel _this_ time either," he joked, knowing his eyes were a little misty. She laughed again, the melodious sound that he remembered.

And then the next thing he knew he was sitting up in his bed. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up in every direction.

"You look so cute when you do that," a sleepy voice said from beside him. He looked over and grinned, glad she was awake.

"Only when I do that?" he teased, laying back down beside her and wrapping an arm around her waist.

"Pretty much, yeah," Maria laughed and let herself snuggle a bit closer to him. "What's up, did you have a dream?"

"Yeah," Kyle nodded against her skin. She smelled like vanilla and it always made him smile.

"Good dream?"

"Yeah."

"Mmm," she yawned sleepily. "Tell me about it..."

"In the morning baby," he murmured, sighing contently. "Go back to sleep."

Maria didn't reply, but the soft rhythm of her breathing let him know that she'd dozed off again. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and then began to drift back asleep.

He'd tell her everything. In the morning.

* * *

King Larek of Magna had not set foot on Antarian soil since his good friend, Zan, had been killed. The war between his galaxy's planets had prevented it. But, for the first time in sixty long years, Larek arrived in the capital city with a barrage of his military. He was joined by the leaders of the three other worlds in their system, and representatives from their militaries. The assorted four hundred soldiers walked to the walls of the palace and demanded an audience with Khivar.

The Skin King met them with hostility, as was expected. Larek told him of the Royal Four's return to Antar. "We seek to put an end to the war that rips our star system apart," Larek spoke for the others. "And we ask that you, and your followers, will agree to work together with Zan to govern Antar."

"Zan is dead Larek," Khivar challenged him, thinking undoubtedly of the team of soldiers he had on Earth hunting the Royal Four. "Or he soon will be. I agree to no such terms. However I am willing to negotiate with you and the others; there is no reason that we can't all have what we want."

"Zan is not dead," Larek countered. "Your assassination attempt was not as successful the second time around: Nicholas has failed, your death squad has been stopped. Antar's Royal Four is safe aboard one of my vessels. The time for negotiations is through. We offer you the following: you will agree to let Antar hold a democratic election to select its ruling house. The looser will be granted land in the Delta Zone in which to create a colony with their followers, if they so desire it."

"And if I refuse?" Khivar scoffed.

"Then you and those loyal to you will be held and tried for treason against the crown," Larek told him cooly, making it very clear what would happen next. "All will stand trial in an interplanetary tribunal. We have watched our galaxy be ripped apart for sixty years now, _Lord_ Khivar, and you have continued to deny any attempts that have been made at a settlement. We are willing to fight to bring peace again."

"You can save a lot of lives today Khivar," Turak, the Zetan king pointed out. "If you make the right choice."

"Zan is not fit to rule," Khivar told them hotly. "He is nothing more than a human hybrid child that has spent the last sixty years in a different galaxy, completely unaware of what is happening on my planet. There is no way that he could possibly rule Antar. He would run us into the ground."

"That is why it will be left to the people of Antar to choose a ruler," Larek rebutted. "Zan has agreed to these terms. What is your decision?"

"I request one hour to confer with my advisors," Khivar decided, eyeing some of his men warily. Larek looked to the other rulers, who nodded.

"We can accept that. We will return in one hour," Larek declared.

Three hours later, when the Magnan shuttle touched down, hundreds of thousands of Antarians waited to meet their royal family. The crowd murmured excitedly amongst themselves, about the upcoming election.

* * *

Jim struggled to juggle the bags of groceries in his arms while he unlocked the door. Beads of sweat made their way down his forehead, a product of the harsh, unforgiving sun, and he cursed the extended heat wave that was hitting Roswell, even though it was almost October. The door finally opened for him and he hurried inside, kicking it shut with the toe of his cowboy boots.

He dropped the bags on the counter and sighed, taking his hat off and pushing his hair out of his face. The stack of mail on the kitchen table caught his attention. 'Amy must have come home for lunch,' he thought to himself and started to put the groceries away.

Once he was done he poured himself a glass of lemonade and collapsed onto a chair at the table. The drink was sweet, heavily sugared the way that Amy liked it, and it made his teeth hurt a bit. Jim pulled the stack of mail towards himself and began to sift through it.

Bill.

Bill.

Coupons.

Bill.

Political flyer.

Bill.

Card.

He paused at the card, and at his name and address printed very carefully in black block letters on the envelope. There was no return address, but there was an international stamp, and a post mark written in a language he couldn't read. Jim frowned; his birthday was over a month ago.

He opened the envelope, curiosity getting the better of him. The front of the card was pretty basic, a large _Happy Birthday_ scrawled amongst multi-coloured streamers and balloons. He opened the card and a strip of photos fell out; the small black and white ones you get from the photo booth at the mall. His fingers traced over the beautiful, happy faces in the photo and he swallowed heavily, feeling a distinct pang in his chest.

_Happy Birthday to New Mexico's finest...You can always say it's an old picture._

_Much love..._

_Harvey and Margarita_

Jim stared in wonderment at the card for a moment, and then blinked quickly, realizing that his eyes were getting a little watery. He looked once again at the e-mail address.

And he smiled.

* * *

All around her students rushed down leafy, tree lined sidewalks towards their lecture halls, towards their labs. It was enough to make a girl overwhelmed. A different kind of girl anyway.

Liz paid them no mind, and continued to stare at the large bulletin board in front of her. Ads for used books, and pub crawls, and apartments for rent, all on various pieces of rainbow-coloured flyers, covered the board like a collage. She pulled the phone number off of one of the apartment ads and slipped it into her pocket.

Despite Brody's generous offer to find her a fantastic apartment close to campus, Liz was insisting on finding something on her own. She also insisted on working part-time while she was in school. Brody reminded her that she didn't need to, that he'd take care of his baby sister, but Liz figured there came a time when you had to let your brother stop carrying you. No matter how rich he managed to get.

"You looking for a roommate?" a guy stepped up beside her, pulling a flyer out of his bag and tacking it to the board just above her head. Liz smiled and turned to him in amusement. She paused...he looked familiar.

"Maybe," she shrugged and smiled coquettishly. He was cute; tall, blonde hair, jeans and a leather jacket. Probably a delinquent when he was in high school.

"Well I've got this great new apartment," he told her, smiling in amusement at her show of flirting. "It's a five minute walk away, decent size too."

"That's convenient."

"Yeah," he nodded. Liz didn't say anything, she couldn't help but stare at him. He laughed a little, maybe slightly unnerved. "What? I'm not creepy, I swear. And it's a two bedroom place, so I'm not just trying to get you back to my apartment to take advantage of you or anything."

"I didn't mean to imply that you were," she assured him, realizing that she actually hadn't thought that at all.

"Than what is it...do I have something on my face?" he ran a hand over his cheek curiously.

"No," Liz shook her head and laughed. "It's just...I have the strangest feeling of deja vu right now. Like maybe we've met before?"

He laughed good-naturedly, and she found herself thinking that he had a really sweet smile. "I'd definitely remember you," he assured her.

Liz hesitated for a moment and then reached up and pulled the flyer down. "So, tell me about this apartment you've got," she said.

"Not so fast there Speedy Gonzales," he held his hands up, pretending to fend her off. "You're moving a little quick for me, I'm not that kind of girl."

She rolled her eyes. "You're not?" she teased. "Even if I told you that you're the prettiest gal in this whole place?"

"Not even then," he shook his head. "But really though, if you want to take a look at the place my next class isn't until after lunch."

Liz cocked her head to the side and then nodded. "Let's go." He gestured grandly for her to join him and she fell into step beside him. They made their way along the tree lined walkway at a leisurely pace, in sharp contrast to the other students hurrying along around them.

"So you're sure that we don't know each other?" she asked him again.

He shrugged and smiled easily. "Maybe in another life," he suggested. He really was cute. "Of course, if we already knew each other, I'm pretty sure I'd know your name by now."

She laughed again, shifting her overstuffed backpack to her other shoulder. "I'm Liz Davis."

"Nice to meet you Liz Davis," he shook her hand easily. "I'm Sean... Sean DeLuca."

She peered up at him thoughtfully. "You look like a Sean," she declared finally.

"You look like a Liz," he returned. They both smiled, suddenly a bit shy.

She averted her eyes, staring at the ground in front of her, and shifted her bag once again. When he reached over and took her bag from her, slinging it over his shoulder, she turned her eyes back to his momentarily.

And she knew that it was the start of something for her. Something different.

The End.


End file.
